The quality of mercy

It was a short time later and they were in the golden splendour of the Ducal Palace, in the presence of the Duke. He was a thin-faced old man with impassive dark eyes and a smartly trimmed white beard. Flanked by a couple of his men, he sat and listened quietly as Dr Leone told him the whole story. When the alchemist had finished, the Duke said nothing for a moment, appearing to be lost in thought. They waited anxiously.

At last the Duke spoke. He said, This is an extraordinary story, Orlando. Quite extraordinary.’ His glance

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flicked over them and Celia’s heart sank. He was not going to take them seriously. At best, he was just going to dismiss them. At worst. . .

‘These are very serious allegations to make against one of our leading families, Orlando,’ continued the Duke. ‘You do understand that?’

‘I do, your grace,’ said Dr Leone, bowing low. ‘And I would not have come to you if I were not utterly convinced indeed as to the seriousness of these allegations— which I believe are genuinely based on solid fact.’

The Duke sighed. ‘Yes. I do see that. And I know your judgement in other matters to be sound.’ He was silent a moment more; then he said, ‘This is not entirely new to me. Our own investigations . . .’ He broke off. ‘It has not been easy to obtain information, and if this works, it will be a good thing. If there is one thing that can destroy Venice as much as Ottoman attacks from without, it is corruption from within. It is a cancer that spreads all too quickly. Very well, you shall have your men-at-arms.’

‘Thank you, your grace,’ said Dr Leone, beaming. ‘I know well your reputation for great probity, and I knew you would hate the notion of the good name of Venice being besmirched in this manner by this wicked woman, who—’

‘Wait,’ said the Duke. He glanced at Dr Tedeschi, who was standing behind Dr Leone and hadn’t spoken all this time. ‘There is one thing: if the Countess does not confess, then the girl will be arrested.’

Fear leaped into the doctor’s face. ‘But, your grace . .

The Duke was expressionless. ‘It will never do for a Jew to be seen to make an accusation against a Christian without proper proof. You people are protected under the law from those who would wish to harm you with- out cause, but if you seek to needlessly harm others or take revenge for imagined wrongs, then you will be punished.’

There was a little silence. Then the doctor spoke. His voice was low and shook a little, his face was pale. But his eyes didn’t waver. ‘Your grace,’ he said, ‘this is no imagined wrong, but a vicious attempt to destroy my daughter’s good name and reputation, in order to hide an even greater sin. My daughter is an innocent caught up in the ugly machinations of those much more powerful than she. We want no revenge—but justice.’

‘And you shall have it, if that is so,’ said the Duke. His impassive face had not changed at all during the doctor’s speech. ‘But you must also understand there are consequences for all actions in this world.’

‘I understand, your grace,’ said Dr Tedeschi very quietly. Celia’s throat tightened. He sounded so very weary, so very sad. ‘But if my daughter is to face these consequences, then I wish to share them with her.’

A faint smile appeared on the Duke’s finely featured face. ‘Spoken like a good father,’ he remarked. ‘You will get your wish, Doctor, if it is to be so.’

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Without another word, Dr Tedeschi bowed and retreated, while Dr Leone and the Duke discussed plans for the night.

Ned hadn’t understood every word, but enough to get the gist, to know the danger they were in, even if they succeeded in getting into the Montemoro palace and confronting the Countess. For there was no way, Ned thought fiercely, that he, at any rate, would abandon the Tedeschis to the unjust ruling of the Duke. Suddenly, he remembered that play by Shakespeare he’d seen at the Globe, the one set around Shylock the Jewish moneylender, and his merciless bargain with the merchant Antonio. It seemed that the position was reversed here, he thought sadly, for the quality of mercy was strained indeed, in the person of the Duke. . . .

They left the Ducal Palace both more and less hopeful than when they’d started out. But Dr Leone was inclined to the former.

‘You must not worry too much, Jacob,’ he told the doctor in English as the gondola slid swiftly through the water. ‘I am sure the Duke is a fair man. He would not imprison your daughter on a whim. And he has no love for the Montemoros. Far from it. I’m sure he believes they are guilty. But he has to move carefully. The Mon- temoros may not have the support of the Council of Ten any more, but there may still be some residual loyalty there. The present Count’s father was on the Council, you know, even if the son is not highly regarded. And the

Duke cannot be seen to be directly crossing the Ten, or attempting to seize emergency powers. Otherwise he could be accused of acting like a dictator—and be overthrown. It has happened before, to other Dukes. He must proceed carefully. I think he sees an opportunity here to nail the Montemoros; but he must cover his own back too.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ said Dr Tedeschi quietly. He looked down into the water. ‘But it is an odd thing, never to feel quite at home in the world.’

Dr Leone looked uncomfortable. ‘None of us feel’s that, my friend. Not Jew, not Christian, not Moor either, I don’t suppose. We are orphans of Eden, all of us.’

‘Yes,’ said Dr Tedeschi. ‘I suppose you are right.’

Ned couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘It doesn’t seem right to me at all that Sarah should be punished for being brave. Is there no justice in Venice?’

‘Ned—’ began Dr Leone, but Celia broke in indignantly.

‘Ned’s right. She has done nothing wrong. She should be protected, not punished.’

‘She won't be punished,’ said Dr Leone rather too heartily.

‘Sarah has never seen herself as a pawn to be disposed of at leisure,’ said Dr Tedeschi gently. ‘That was a mistake of mine, allowing her to grow up thinking she might be able to move the pieces of her own life. It is not to be. It will never be, for people like us.’

‘That’s not true,’ Ned burst out. ‘We won’t allow it,

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Dr Tedeschi. We’ll protect you and Sarah. We won’t let them—’

Dr Tedeschi smiled sadly at him. ‘You are a kind young man,’ he said, ‘and you have a true heart. But in this world, true hearts do not always win. That is the way of the world. That has always been the way.’

‘Oh, tosh,’ said Dr Leone roughly. ‘You are far too gloomy, all of you. I am sure that this plan will work— the Montemoros will be quite undone and Sarah will be the heroine of the moment. You wait and see!’

Nobody had the heart to answer him.

Back at the house, Mistress Quickly came out to meet them. She looked anxious. ‘It’s Edmund,’ she said. ‘He’s getting agitated. He kept asking for Beatrice. I had to soothe him several times.’

‘I should have stayed with him,’ said Dr Tedeschi. ‘I’ll go and have a look at him right away.’

‘He’s a good man,’ said Dr Leone, looking after the doctor. ‘I only wish . . . Ah well, let us not sadden ourselves with these things. Everything will turn out well. Dear Mistress Quickly, the Duke has agreed to help us. Tonight we will beard the Countess in her den and make her disgorge her prey. It will be a fine thing indeed!’

Ned and Celia looked at each other. Ned said gently, ‘I’d best go to Murano straight away and let the others know.’ He paused. ‘Celia, will you do me the honour of coming with me?’

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‘Just try and stop me,’ said Celia brightly, with a determined tilt of the chin. Nobody tried to stop her. They all knew better.

‘Celia,’ said Ned a little while later, ‘there’s something I want to say to you.’

They were sitting in the boat on the way to Murano. Sitting side by side, but not quite touching, suddenly shy with each other, but glad to be together.

Celia swallowed. She looked away, glancing at the boatman, who seemed oblivious to them. Ned said quietly, ‘Something I’ve been wanting to say for a long time, Celia.’ He put a hand gently on one of hers and withdrew it almost at once. ‘Will you hear me?’

Celia wanted to speak, to say something pert or tart, or anything at all, but the bright words that usually came so readily to her lips had dried up in her mouth. Her heart beat fast. She felt almost scared. She looked at Ned, then away quickly. She nodded.

‘I love you, Celia,’ he said simply. ‘I’ve loved you for a long time.’ All those words he’d rehearsed, all the golden phrases, and yet what came to his lips was this simple declaration. ‘And I wanted to know if perhaps you might. . .’ He trailed off, suddenly losing courage, thinking: What a fool I am, deluding myself into thinking that the look in her eyes back at the house meant somehow she shared my feelings . Now she'll be embarrassed, annoyed, and I've spoiled everything between us and . ..

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Then she turned her head and looked him right in the eyes. She faltered, ‘I think ... I think that I might, Ned. Oh, I think that I might!’ And all of a sudden she was in his arms; so suddenly, in fact, that the boat rocked and the boatman called out in alarm. But his shouts turned to beaming smiles as he saw the young couple in each other’s arms, kissing, and he shook his head happily, murmuring in Venetian dialect to himself, then turned back to his pole.

After a breathless moment, Celia drew back, laughing. ‘Oh, Ned, I never would have thought it of you!’

‘Thought what?’ he said, laughing a little too, looking at Celia—his beautiful Celia—remembering the feel of her lips on his.

‘That you could be such a good kisser,’ she said pertly.

‘Really?’ he growled, and catching her up, kissed her again. ‘And why would you think that?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she answered, dimpling up at him, her heart racing. ‘I suppose I just don’t have enough imagination. I never dreamed gruff, grumpy Ned would ever want to do anything like that!’

‘Then you were wrong. On both counts,’ retorted Ned, and the happiness hummed so loudly in his veins that he thought it must be heard. ‘I am very interested in kissing .. . you,’ he added, leaning towards her, ‘and what’s more, I am neither gruff nor grumpy but just mad about you and sure you wouldn’t give a brass coin for me.’

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‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Maybe I might not give a brass coin—but perhaps you might accept some other denomination?’

‘That depends what it is,’ said Ned, the back of his neck prickling with delight, ‘and whether it is of sufficiently high coinage to—’

‘Silly,’ she said, and kissed him hard while the boatman grinned from his perch and the shore of Murano got closer and closer.

‘Oh, Celia!’ Ned said at last. ‘What do you think your father will say, when he knows?’

‘Fancy worrying about Father now,’ she scolded happily, ‘when you know he can be won over to my way of thinking any day of the week! Besides, he likes you.’

‘Yes, but he loves you,’ said Ned seriously. ‘And he wants you to be happy. He won’t want his only child affianced to a man who is not worthy to—’

‘Don’t be a fool,’ said Celia briskly, her eyes sparkling. ‘I can put up with a lot from you, Ned, but not that kind of nonsense.’

Ned laughed. ‘And I can put up with anything, as long as you love me!’

‘Then I have more to scold you with,’ she said, and her voice softened. ‘Ned, you dear, dear fool—you could have been killed if you’d had that duel with Henri. And for what? For what?’

‘For stupid pride,’ said Ned honestly. Then he grinned.

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‘But it might not have been me that was killed. I’m not such a bad swordsman, you know.’

‘Really! Why would you want to kill Henri! He never did you any harm!’

‘No, he didn’t,’ said Ned. ‘I’m glad we never had the duel. He’s not such a bad fellow, after all. Things do work out for the best sometimes, Celia.’

‘Yes,’ she said as the boat docked. Her chest constricted. ‘And I hope they do now too, Ned. For Sarah, I mean.’

He nodded, suddenly sober. ‘I fear it could go wrong, my love. But we must try. You understand, don’t you?’

‘You know I do,’ she said as he helped her out of the boat, her hand resting in his as if it had always been meant. ‘We must help them. What else can we do? Besides, why should we let ourselves be beaten by a bunch of unjust Venetian grandees?’

‘That’s the spirit,’ he said, smiling. ‘You know, darling, she reminds me of you.’

‘Who?’

‘Sarah Tedeschi. She’s beautiful, clever, brave—and stubborn. Just like you.’

Celia glanced coquettishly up at him. ‘Just as long as you haven’t made a declaration of love to her too, Ned Fletcher!’

‘Celia!’ cried Ned. ‘You really are the limit! How could you say such a silly thing? You’ll like her, I know you will!’

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‘We’ll see about that,’ she answered, laughing at his vehemence, and took his arm as they walked away from the quay.

Three of Claudio’s friends were already at the Murano house when Ned and Celia arrived. They were men as battle-hard and wary as Claudio, and they listened carefully to what Celia told them about the scene in the Duke’s palace. Claudio’s face darkened as she spoke.

‘You do not have to concern yourselves,’ he said grimly. ‘Whatever happens, the Duke’s men will not be allowed to arrest Sarah.’ He did not explain quite what he would do, but Celia thought he would give his last drop of blood for the girl.

‘We will be in position at nightfall,’ Claudio went on. ‘Sarah will be coming after us in a gondola on her own. She will insist on being taken to the same room where the patient lay. We know exactly where that is.’

Celia glanced at Sarah. Despite what she’d said earlier, she had taken to the other girl from the start. There was no haughtiness about Sarah and no false shyness, but determination and courage. And despite what Ned said, she's more beautiful than me, thought honest Celia; a striking, unusual beauty, of the sort that makes men tremble and dream. The kind that painters want to paint and poets immortalize in verse. The sort men go to war for .. . But just at the moment, Sarah seemed a little uncertain, as if the thing she’d wanted for so

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long—vindication of her good name and a chance to refute her accuser—had come upon her unexpectedly and she wasn’t sure how to react

Sarah must have felt her glance, for she turned and said, ‘You have seen my father and my aunt. How have they borne my . . . my absence?’

‘Quite well, considering,’ said Celia a little drily. Then, relenting, she added, ‘I think they believe you to be a queen, do you see, not a pawn.’

Sarah’s eyes widened. ‘A what? . . . Oh, I see.’ She gave a faint smile. ‘I am fortunate in my family.’ She added, ‘So are you, I think, Celia.’

Celia looked over at Ned and her father, who was joining animatedly in the discussion with Claudio. She said softly, ‘I think I am too.’

‘Signore Fletcher, he is the friend of your heart, no? You are to be married?’

‘I hope so. One day,’ said Celia, her heart pounding, looking over at Ned. ‘What of you and Captain Battaglia?’

Sarah started and flushed.

‘Come, girl, you can see he’s head over heels for you,’ said Celia with a grin. ‘I don’t suppose he’s dared to breathe a word of it to you—he’s much too afraid.’

‘Afraid?’ said the other girl, drawing herself up. ‘But Claudio is the bravest and the kindest and most honourable man in all of Venice!’

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‘Quite,’ said Celia. ‘But bravery in those things doesn’t equal bravery in love. He is a humble man, your Claudio, despite his fearsome looks.’

‘There is nothing fearsome about Claudio,’ said Sarah softly, ‘except when he is facing evil. Then he will move heaven and earth to fight it.’

‘When it’s for your good, as well, I rather think,’ said Celia gently.

She would have said more, but was interrupted at that moment by Ned. ‘I will be going with them,’ he said, and his eyes were like stars. ‘Claudio has asked me to join them and I have agreed.’

‘But that is danger—’ Celia began before she could stop herself. Then she checked her words, tried to smile, and said, ‘Very well, then. And I will go with Sarah.’

Ned stared at the two girls. But it was Sarah who said, in her stumbling English, ‘You go me, Celia? But. . . Why?’

‘Because I think you need someone with you. And because it will puzzle the Countess. She does not know me. She is less likely to just attack you if Fm there.’ She grinned. ‘And besides, I may know a few little tricks to loosen her tongue.’

‘Celia!’ protested Ned. ‘That’s far too danger—’

She put a finger to his lips. ‘Shh. You’ll be there with the other lads, just outside. And the Duke’s men will be

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on the other side of the door. There’s no danger.’ She looked at him, and he knew the meaning in her eyes. If you love me, you'll understand why I must do this.

He nodded. ‘You must be careful, then.’

She shrugged. ‘Of course. I do not intend to court death just yet.’

‘You very kind,’ said Sarah. Her eyes were very bright, as if from unshed tears.

‘Nonsense,’ said Celia hastily. ‘I’m just not about to be left out of things again. Once was enough. Isn’t that right, Ned?’

‘Quite right,’ he said, smiling.

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Picture #35