Cry to heaven Page 0,71

Guido Maffeo and all those connected with the Conservatorio San Angelo, who had not known of his action before it was taken.

But it was foremost in his mind that no blame for this attach to his brother Carlo.

“As this man is now sole surviving heir of our late father yet sound of body and able to marry, it is imperative that he must be absolved from all responsibility for my actions so that he may attend to his duties to future wife and children,” Tonio said.

And then he signed the letter. The lawyer, never batting an eyelash at its strange contents, witnessed it, and so did Guido.

A copy was then sent to a woman named Catrina Lisani, with the request that all Tonio’s possessions be forwarded to Naples immediately. And would a small dowry be paid at once to a Bettina Sanfredo, serving girl in her father’s café on San Marco, so she might be properly married?

After this, Tonio retired to the monastery at which they were lodged, and fell down on his bed exhausted.

Often during the night, after that, Guido would wake to find Tonio on the edge of the room, fully dressed and waiting for the morning. And sometimes before midnight, he stirred in his sleep, even cried out, but then he would wake and his face would become as wooden and unreadable as ever.

It was impossible to know the extent of the pain which was sealed inside, though at times it seemed Guido could feel that pain emanating from the boy’s still frame as it rested listlessly in the corner of the jolting carriage. At times, Guido wanted to speak, but he could not, and that same despair touched him as it had that night in Ferrara. And yet it humiliated him that this boy had heard him weeping and asked him so openly if the tears had been on his account. And Guido completely forgot that he had never given Tonio any answer.

In Florence, when they at last met those two boys Guido had left there for the return to Naples, Tonio was visibly disturbed by their presence in the carriage. And he seemed unable to prevent himself from staring at them.

Yet in Siena, he bought both children new shoes and capes and ordered them sweets at table. They were shy, obedient boys, one nine years of age, the other ten, and neither dared speak nor move unless told to do so. Yet Paolo, the younger of the two, had a humorous turn, it was clear, and could not now and then resist a broad smile that always forced Tonio’s eyes abruptly away from him. Once when Guido dozed, he awoke to see this boy had nestled in beside Tonio. It was raining then. And lightning broke over the soft, deep green hills, and with each crackle of thunder the boy drew nearer so that at last, without looking at him, Tonio slipped his arm about him. A film descended over Tonio’s eyes, and as his fingers clasped this child’s leg to hold him firm, it seemed suddenly an uncontrollable emotion might well up in him. But then he shut his eyes, his head to one side as if his neck were broken. And the carriage jolted on under the warm spring rain towards the Eternal City.

But while Tonio seemed blind to all the somber splendor of Rome, he had by the time they reached the Porto del Populo turned his obsessive attention away from the two boys and fixed it upon Guido. His eyes, meantime, had lost nothing of their quiet malevolence. Yet mercilessly they fixed on Guido, his walk, his manner of sitting, even the scant dark hair on the backs of his hands. And in the rooms they shared at night, Tonio watched boldly as Guido removed his clothes, staring at Guido’s long and seemingly powerful arms, his heavy chest, his large shoulders.

Guido bore all this in silence.

Yet it began to wear on him, and why precisely he was not certain. His body actually meant little to him. He had performed on the stage of the conservatorio since he was a small boy, costuming, painting, and otherwise draping and disguising himself so that his own peculiarities were rather routine to him. He knew, for example, his heavy frame made him look well in male roles and that his immense eyes if too lavishly painted appeared supernatural.

But nudity, scrutiny, and defects here and there meant nothing to him.

And yet this boy’s stare was so

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