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Then he had eaten some without saying a word more; Danglars, therefore, concluded that such luxuries were common at the table of the illustrious descendant of the Cavalcanti, who most likely in Lucca fed upon trout brought from Switzerland, and lobsters sent from England, by the same means used by the count to bring the lampreys from Lake Fusaro, and the sterlet from the Volga.
"Then to admit no one except Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti and his son." "You hear Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti a man who ranks amongst the most ancient nobility of Italy, whose name Dante has celebrated in the tenth canto of 'The Inferno, you remember it, do you not?
What next? You say M. Danglars dined here?" "Yes, with Count Cavalcanti, the marquis his father, Madame Danglars, M. and Madame de Villefort, charming people, M. Debray, Maximilian Morrel, and M. de Chateau-Renaud." "Did they speak of me?" "Not a word." "So much the worse." "Why so? I thought you wished them to forget you?"
Camden says, that in the 14th of that Princess, he was sent ambassador to Charles IX King of France, to congratulate his marriage with the Emperor Maximilian's daughter, and on other important affairs where he was honourably received, according to his Queen's merit and his own; and having in company Guido Cavalcanti, a Gentleman of Florence, a person of great experience, and the Queen-mother being a Florentine, a treaty of marriage was publickly transacted between Queen Elizabeth and her son the duke of Anjou.
"'In order to save Major Cavalcanti the trouble of drawing on his banker, I send him a draft for 2,000 francs to defray his travelling expenses, and credit on you for the further sum of 48,000 francs, which you still owe me." The major awaited the conclusion of the postscript, apparently with great anxiety. "Very good," said the count.
In 1300, when Dante was thirty-five, he was sufficiently important to be made one of the six priors of the city, and in that capacity was called upon to quell a Neri and Bianchi disturbance. It is characteristic of him that he was a party to the banishment of the leaders of both factions, among whom was his closest friend, Guido Cavalcanti the poet, who was one of the Bianchi.
"The ladies around you," says Cavalcanti, "are dear to me for the sake of your love; and I pray them as they are courteous, that they should do you all honour."
"I think I may aspire to that honor," said Danglars with a smile, which reminded Monte Cristo of the sickly moons which bad artists are so fond of daubing into their pictures of ruins. "But, while we are speaking of business," Danglars added, pleased to find an opportunity of changing the subject, "tell me what I am to do for M. Cavalcanti."
To this Cavalcanti replied by saying that for some time past his son had lived independently of him, that he had his own horses and carriages, and that not having come together, it would not be difficult for them to leave separately.
It is many a long year since my dear friend Messer Guido dei Cavalcanti died of that disastrous exile to which, by the cynical irony of fate, my other dear friend, Messer Dante dei Alighieri, was foredestined to doom him. That sadness has nothing to do with this sadness, and I here give it the go-by.
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