The Clock and the Key
it a slender little volume in vellum covers. He passed it to me in silence. I opened it. It was
curiously, ret
beginning of the sixteenth century. I made this translation in the Royal Library at Vienna the other day. The
erns the
hapter I–concerning the jewels and the casket; Chapter II–the clock. My remarks may be supposed to constitu
about her. I know she lived during the
eft as you enter; and I assure you that it is well worth a little pilgrimage to Milan to see. It is a profile of extraordinary charm–a young girl of eig
imself caught in the web of his own treachery. He needed money to pay his allies. But his wonderful Sala del Tesoro, with its oak chest of gol
f the Renaissance, you will know that in times of stress they resorted
before the Signory, as his ambassadress, for help both of money and men. If the Signory refused to help Ludovico, her husband, she was to appeal to the Doge; for the old man had alrea
l read you the first extract f
himself conducted her to the seat of honor, and all eyes were turned to her in admiration at her divine beauty. She wore a gold brocade embroidered with crimson doves, with a jeweled feath
Venice, and piteously implored our help against Milan's foes. If it were not possible for us to furnish men, at least
had asked. But he reminded her that at this time Venice was herself at war with Genoa, her hereditary foe. Her own treasury was empty. There was hardly to be found in all Venice a noble or plebeian who had not loaned to
nied her petition, sin
that the jewels remain in Venice to this da
atient to h
n read from the
st tapestries, noble ladies, glittering with gold chains and gems, looked down on the sumptuous scene. It was the finest sight of the whole world. And when they landed at the Molo, they could hardly force their way through the press, though the Doge himself walked in front of them. Every one turne
ar lady, seeing that the jewels which adorn you are as many and beautiful as those we guard so carefully." (Word
the Doge should not have said what he did?), "Do these poor stones please you
I shall await to-morrow with the g
he book face down
mour of their beauty, or the charm and witchery of the lovely ambassadress, does not concern us. What does co
re never redeeme
ter. Ludovico was taken captive by Louis of France, who dragged him to
my Genoa, and the straits to which she was put to raise funds. Every citizen, we read, contributed his dole, however humble. Except the Doge. Sanudo refers again and aga
terrupted. "He must have known that Beatri
our Diarist answer it for you. This an
that which is more incredible than the travels of Messer Marco Polo to the great Mogul of Tartary. Scarce an hour has p
excuse nor offered aid, murmurs of discontent and suspicion arose louder than any that have yet been heard. At first the Doge smiled bravely and affected to listen as heretofore. But there were those who saw him tremble for very fear. And presently, one bolder than the rest, charged the
e done speaking. The whole of my wealth did I loan to Ludovico the Moor, at the entreaty of his wife, when last she visited this state two years ago.
e her pleasure, when she should come again to redeem her jewels, I hired Giovanni da Sestos, the goldsmith, whose ren
ld be baffled to break it open. For when it was once closed, certain springs ingeniously contrived by clockwork mad
I made to him; one, when he undertook the work; another, that he might buy the gems with which the cover w
g now that the jewels could never be redeemed, seeing that Ludovico is in prison and his wife dead, I
nything like it since the beginning of the world, I longed greatly to see the jewels in the glorious box before th
I possessed the gems till I had pawned them and until the money should be paid into the treasury of the state.) I bade him
itted him to my room, where there was n
n. For he was eager to see 72whether the gems would fit the little pockets that he had made for each of the more costly. And so we placed the gems in the pocket of the casket, and then, as if by chance, I closed the cover, which could not be op
pay him the money that he asked until I had first pawned the jewels. And presently, when I attempted to soothe him, he became as violent as a wild beast. (And indeed the goldsmith da Sestos, though a great arti
money he demanded; and leaving the guard in my bed-chamber to keep watch 73on the treasure, I left my room.
so that the insolent fellow might be thrust without the palace, for he had angered me greatly. I was without the cham
nni writhed on the floor in an agony of pain, grievously
ocked and the two men were both in my bed-chamber. But the window, looking out on the court of th
ne from the chamber than they had set on him and the guard. He accused me of hiding the men in the balcony. (I much wonder that
had finished, he who had first accused the Doge of treachery demanded what proof the senate might have of this fable, seei
im from this belief. So that at last there were many of the Signory who inclined to it. And presently, when they had questioned him closely, they decreed, partly because certain ones believed him innocent of all evil-doing, and partly because he was so incomparable an artist, that
it. For what goldsmith could not be bribed to swear to such a story? And as for the Doge,
r one?" I asked, ta
e," echoed St. Hila