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30 - Black Magic- a Tale of the Rise and Fall of the Antichrist by Marjorie Bowen · Black Magic- a Tale of the Rise and Fall of the Antichrist

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  Speaker 1: Section thirty of Black Magic by Marjorie Bowen. This Lebrivox
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  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. Part two, Chapter eight,
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  Speaker 1: Ursula of Rousseleeri, say I have done well for you.
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  Speaker 1: It seems that I must ask your thanks. The Pope
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  Speaker 1: sat at a little table near the window of his
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  Speaker 1: private room in the Vatican and rested his face on
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  Speaker 1: his hand. Leaning against the scarlet tapestries that covered the
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  Speaker 1: opposite wall was Tyrie, clothed in chain mail and heavily armed. Yea,
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  Speaker 1: answered Tyrie, and is it for my sake? Ye have
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  Speaker 1: done this? Must you question it? Returned Michael with a
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  Speaker 1: quick breath. YEA, for your sake, to make you, as
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  Speaker 1: I promised, Emperor of the West, my vengeance. Had else
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  Speaker 1: been more quietly satisfied, he laughed, I have not forgotten
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  Speaker 1: all my magic, Tyrie winced. The vision in the Basilica
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  Speaker 1: was proof of that. What are you who can bring
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  Speaker 1: back the hollow dead to aid your schemes? Do you
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  Speaker 1: think I am not human? Tyrie? He gave a sigh.
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  Speaker 1: If you would believe in me, trust me, be faithful
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  Speaker 1: to me. Why our friendship would be the lever to
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  Speaker 1: move the universe. And you and I would rule the
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  Speaker 1: world between us. But this is truth. If again you
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  Speaker 1: forsake me, you bring about your own downfall, stand by me,
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  Speaker 1: and I will share with you the dominion of this earth.
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  Speaker 1: This I say is truth. Tyrie laughed unhappily. Humph, sweet devil,
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  Speaker 1: there is no god and I have no soul. There
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  Speaker 1: Do not fear. I shall be very faithful to you,
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  Speaker 1: since what is there for man save to glut his
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  Speaker 1: desires of pomp and wealth and power. He moved from
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  Speaker 1: the wall and took a quick turn about the room.
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  Speaker 1: And yet I know not, he cried. Can all your magic,
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  Speaker 1: all your learning, all your riches keep you where you are?
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  Speaker 1: The clouds hang angrily over Rome, nor have they lifted
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  Speaker 1: since Orsini announced you Pope. The people riot in the streets.
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  Speaker 1: All beautiful things are dead. Many see ghosts and devils
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  Speaker 1: walking at twilight across the Maremma. The powers that put
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  Speaker 1: me here can keep me here. Be you, but true
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  Speaker 1: to me, ay I will be Emperor. Tiri grasped his
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  Speaker 1: sword hilt fiercely. Though the world I rule wrought about me,
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  Speaker 1: though ghouls and fiends make my imperial train, I will
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  Speaker 1: join hands with Antichrist and see if there be a
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  Speaker 1: god or no. The Pope rose, you must go against Baltasar.
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  Speaker 1: You must defeat his hosts and bring to me his empress.
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  Speaker 1: Then will I crown you. In Saint Peter's Tiri pressed
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  Speaker 1: his hand to his forehead. We start tomorrow with the
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  Speaker 1: dawn beneath the banner of God his Church. I in
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  Speaker 1: this mail ye gave me tempered and forged in hell.
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  Speaker 1: Until then, stay in the Vatican, said Michael the second.
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  Speaker 1: Suddenly my prelates and my nobles know you for their leader.
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  Speaker 1: Now nay, Tyrie flushed as he answered, I must go
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  Speaker 1: to my own abode in the city. Jacobya of Martzburg
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  Speaker 1: is still in Rome, said the other. Do you leave
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  Speaker 1: me to go to her? What is Jacobya to me?
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  Speaker 1: Demanded Tyrie desperately. Why did you approach her after her
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  Speaker 1: devotions in San Giovanni in Latrano. Speak to her and
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  Speaker 1: recall yourself to her mind. You know that, ah, it
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  Speaker 1: was the dancer, your accomplice. What mystery is this, he
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  Speaker 1: asked in a distracted way. Why does not Ursula of
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  Speaker 1: rousse Lari come forth under her true name and confound
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  Speaker 1: the emperor? Why does she follow me and in such
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  Speaker 1: a guise without looking at him. Michael answered, maybe because
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  Speaker 1: she is very wise, maybe because she is a very fool.
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  Speaker 1: Let her pass. She has served her turn. You say
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  Speaker 1: you do not go to Palter with Jacobia, then farewell
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  Speaker 1: until tomorrow. I have much to do. Farewell, Tyrie. Tyrie
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  Speaker 1: left the rich scented chamber and the vast halls of
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  Speaker 1: the Vatican and passed into the riotous and lawless streets
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  Speaker 1: of Rome. The storm that had hung so unnaturally long
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  Speaker 1: over the city had affected the people. Bravos and assassins
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  Speaker 1: crept from their hiding places in the catacombs or the
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  Speaker 1: Palatine and flaunted in the streets. The wine shops were
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  Speaker 1: filled with mongrel soldiers of all nations, attracted by the
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  Speaker 1: declaration of war from the surrounding towns. Blasphemers mocked openly
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  Speaker 1: at the processions of unks and pilgrims that traversed the streets,
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  Speaker 1: chanting the penitential psalms or scourging themselves in an attempt
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  Speaker 1: to avert the wrath of heaven. Witches gathered in the
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  Speaker 1: low marshes of the Maremma and came at night into
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  Speaker 1: the city trailing gray, fever laden vapor after them, the
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  Speaker 1: bell ropes began to rot in the churches, and the
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  Speaker 1: bells clattered from the steeples. The gold rusted on the altars,
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  Speaker 1: and mice gnawed the garments on the holy images of
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  Speaker 1: the saints. The people lived with reckless laughter, and died
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  Speaker 1: with hopeless curses and such. Under Pope Michael the Second
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  Speaker 1: was Rome. Swiftly and in a moment, Tirie, like all others,
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  Speaker 1: went heavily armed. His hand was constantly on his sword
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  Speaker 1: hill as he made his way through the city that
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  Speaker 1: was forsaken by God. Tyrie walked beyond the Appian Gate
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  Speaker 1: and stopped at a low convent building, above the portals
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  Speaker 1: of which hung a lamb, its gentle radiance like a
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  Speaker 1: star in the heavy, noisome twilight. The gate that led
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  Speaker 1: into a courtyard stood half open. Tyrie softly pushed it
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  Speaker 1: wider and entered. There were no lights in the convent windows,
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  Speaker 1: but it was not yet too dark for Tyrie to
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  Speaker 1: distinguish the slim figure of a lady seated on a
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  Speaker 1: wooden bench, her hands passive in her lap. He latched
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  Speaker 1: the gate and softly crossed the lawn. You said that
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  Speaker 1: I might come, Jacobia turned her head, unsmiling, unsurprised. Ay, sir,
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  Speaker 1: this place is open to all. He seated himself beside her.
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  Speaker 1: What do you do here, he asked, so little. There
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  Speaker 1: are two sisters here, and I help them. One can
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  Speaker 1: do nothing against the plague, but for the little forsaken children,
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  Speaker 1: something and something for the miserable sick. The wretched of
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  Speaker 1: Rome are not in your keeping, he said eagerly. It
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  Speaker 1: will mean your life. Why did you not go with
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  Speaker 1: the Empress? She shook her head. I was not needed.
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  Speaker 1: I suppose what they said of her was true. I
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  Speaker 1: cannot remember it clearly, but I think that when Malkoar
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  Speaker 1: died I knew it was her doing. We must not
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  Speaker 1: dwell on the pass, said Tyrie. Have you heard that
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  Speaker 1: I lead the Pope's army against Balthasar Nay. Her eyes
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  Speaker 1: were on the white rose, Jacobia, I shall be the emperor.
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  Speaker 1: In the now complete dark, they could scarcely see each other.
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  Speaker 1: There were no stars, and distant thunder rolled at intervals.
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  Speaker 1: Tiri timidly put out his hand and touched the fold
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  Speaker 1: of her dress, where it lay along the seat. I
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  Speaker 1: wish you would not stay here. It is so lonely,
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  Speaker 1: I think, she would wish me to do this. She,
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  Speaker 1: he questioned, Sybylla, she is dead, yea. She died on
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  Speaker 1: a cold morning, so cold you could see your breath
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  Speaker 1: before you as you rode along, and the road was
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  Speaker 1: hard as glass. There was a yellow dawn that day,
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  Speaker 1: and the pine trees seemed frozen. They stood so motionless
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  Speaker 1: you would not think it was ten years ago. I
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  Speaker 1: wonder how long it seems to her. A silence fell
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  Speaker 1: upon them for a while. Then Tyrie broke out desperately, jacobya,
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  Speaker 1: my heart is torn within me. To day I said
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  Speaker 1: there was no god. But when I sit by you, yea,
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  Speaker 1: there is a god, she answered quietly. Be very sure
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  Speaker 1: of that, Oh, Jacobya, he cried at last. I am
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  Speaker 1: beyond all measure, mean and vile. I know not what
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  Speaker 1: to do. I can be emperor, Yet as I sit here,
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  Speaker 1: that seems to me as nothing. Jacoby A rose slowly
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  Speaker 1: from the bench. Why do you come to me? Because
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  Speaker 1: ye seemed to me nearer heaven than anything I know.
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  Speaker 1: He followed her dim scene figure across the grass. She
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  Speaker 1: lifted the latch of the convent door and went before
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  Speaker 1: him into the building. For a while, she left him
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  Speaker 1: in the passage, then returned with a pale lamp in
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  Speaker 1: her hand, and conducted him into a small, bare chamber,
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  Speaker 1: which seemed mean in contrast with the glowing splendor of
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  Speaker 1: his appearance. The sisters are abroad, said Jacobya, and I
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  Speaker 1: stay here in case any ring the bell for succor.
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  Speaker 1: She set her lamp on the wooden table and slowly
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  Speaker 1: turned her eyes on Tyrie. Sir, I am very selfish,
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  Speaker 1: she spoke, with difficulty, as if she painfully forced expression.
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  Speaker 1: I have thought of myself for so many years, and somehow,
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  Speaker 1: she lightly touched her breast. I cannot feel for myself
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  Speaker 1: or for others. Nothing seems real save Sybylla. Nothing matters
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  Speaker 1: save her. Sometimes I cry for little things I find
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  Speaker 1: dying alone, for poor, unnoticed miseries of animals and children,
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  Speaker 1: But for the rest. You must not blame me if
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  Speaker 1: I do not sympathize that has gone from me, Nor
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  Speaker 1: can I help you. God is far away beyond the stars.
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  Speaker 1: I do not think he can stoop to such as
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  Speaker 1: you and me, And and I do not feel as
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  Speaker 1: if I should wake until I die. Tyrie covered his
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  Speaker 1: eyes and moaned. Jacobya was not looking at him, but
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  Speaker 1: at the one bright thing in the room, a samite
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  Speaker 1: cushion worked with a scarlet lily that rested on a
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  Speaker 1: chair by the window. She took her gaze from the
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  Speaker 1: red flower and turned her tired gray eyes on him.
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  Speaker 1: The blood surged into his face. He clenched his hands
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  Speaker 1: and spoke passionately. I will renounce the world. I will
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  Speaker 1: become a monk. What was that, asked Jacobya was singing
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  Speaker 1: without Tyrie's strained eyes glistened. If love were all his
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  Speaker 1: perfect servant, I would be kissing where his foot might fall,
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  Speaker 1: doing him homage on a lowly knee, if love were all.
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  Speaker 1: Tyrie turned and went out into the dark hot night.
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  Speaker 1: He could see neither roses, nor fountain, nor even the
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  Speaker 1: line of the convent wall against the sky. But the
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  Speaker 1: light above the gate revealed to him the dancer in orange,
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  Speaker 1: who leant against the stone arch of the entrance and
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  Speaker 1: sang to a strange, long instrument that hung round her
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  Speaker 1: neck by a gleaming chain. At her feet, the ape crouched,
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  Speaker 1: nodding himself to sleep. What do you do here, he
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  Speaker 1: demanded fiercely, the Pope's spy. You may I not come
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  Speaker 1: to worship here as well as another. She answered. He
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  Speaker 1: caught her by the arms and against the stone gateway.
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  Speaker 1: Now tell me the meaning of your disguise, he breathed,
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  Speaker 1: And of your league with Michael the second, she said,
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  Speaker 1: a strange little word under her breath. The ape jumped
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  Speaker 1: up and tore away the man's hands, while the girl
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  Speaker 1: bent to a run and sped through the gate. Tyrie
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  Speaker 1: gave a cry of pain and rage, and glanced towards
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  Speaker 1: the convent. The door was closed, lady and lamp had
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  Speaker 1: disappeared in the darkness. Shut out, whispered Tyrie. Shut out.
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  Speaker 1: He turned into the street and saw, by the scattered
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  Speaker 1: lanterns along the appian Way the figure of the Dancer
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  Speaker 1: slipping fast towards the city gates. But he gained on her,
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  Speaker 1: and at the sound of his clattering step, she looked round. Ah,
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  Speaker 1: she said, I thought you had stayed with the sweet
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  Speaker 1: faced saint Yonder. She wants none of me, he panted,
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  Speaker 1: But I I mean to see your face to night.
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  Speaker 1: I am not beautiful, answered the dancer. And you have
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  Speaker 1: seen my face, seen your face. Sirtayze In the basilica
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  Speaker 1: on the fete, the ever gathering tempest was drawing near
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  Speaker 1: with fitful flashes of lightning playing over his jewel like
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  Speaker 1: mail and her orange gown as they made their way
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  Speaker 1: through the ruins. Do you want to hear alone at night?
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  Speaker 1: Ask Tyrie. It is a vile place a man might
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  Speaker 1: be afraid. I have the ape, she said. Where are
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  Speaker 1: we going? Asked Tyrie. The wayside lanterns had ceased. He
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  Speaker 1: could see her only by the lightning gleams. I know not.
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  Speaker 1: Why do you follow me? I am mad? I think
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  Speaker 1: the earth rocks beneath me, and heaven bends overhead. You
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  Speaker 1: lure me, and I follow in sheer confusion, Ursula of
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  Speaker 1: rousse l'arie. Why have you lured me? What power is
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  Speaker 1: it that you have over me? Where are you disguised?
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  Speaker 1: I am Baltassar's wife, Ay, he responded eagerly. And I
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  Speaker 1: do hear ye loved another man? What is that to you?
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  Speaker 1: She asked this though I have not seen your face.
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  Speaker 1: Perchance I could love you, Ursula. There was no answer.
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  Speaker 1: He felt her arm quiver under his hand, and heard
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  Speaker 1: the hems of her tunic tinkle against her buskins as
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  Speaker 1: if she trembled. At last, she spoke, in a half
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  Speaker 1: swooning voice, I have taken off my mask. Bend your
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  Speaker 1: head and kiss me. Invisible and potent powers drew him
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  Speaker 1: towards her unseen face. His lips touched and kissed its softness.
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  Speaker 1: The thunder sounded with such a terrific force and clash
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  Speaker 1: that Tyrie sprang back. A cry of agony went up
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  Speaker 1: from the darkness. He ran blindly forward. Her presence had
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  Speaker 1: gone from his side, nor can did he see or
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  Speaker 1: feel her as he moved. He ran sobbing down the
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  Speaker 1: Appian Way, and his pace was very swift, for all
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  Speaker 1: the mail he carried. End of section thirty. Recording by
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  Speaker 1: Molly Craig