Peter Robinson - Not Safe After Dark

Let me give you a little background. My name is Isabella, and until that moment I had been all set to enter a convent. I fear I have a wayward and impulsive nature that needs to be kept in check, and the convent I had in mind, the votarists of St Clare, was one of strict restraint. Imagine my feelings when, head swimming from the twists and turns of recent events, I heard I was to be married to the duke!

But there’s more, much more.

A short while ago the duke realized that he had become lax in his duties, being of too mild and gentle a nature to enforce the laws of the land to their fullest. Of special concern to him, because it ate away at the very institution of marriage itself, was the law that forbade, on pain of death, a man to live with a woman to whom he was not married.

Fearing that the people would revolt if he were suddenly to change course and start enforcing the law rigorously himself, the duke thought it better to slip away for a while and leave his deputy, Angelo, in charge. Thus, Angelo was invested with all the duke’s powers and charged with cleaning up Vienna.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Where do I come into all this? you might be wondering. Well, it so happens that my brother Claudio had plighted his troth to his fiancée Juliet, and they were sleeping together. The problem was that they had kept their marriage contract a secret in the hope that Juliet’s family would in time come to favour their union and provide a dowry, and this brought them within the scope of the law against fornication.

Now, Angelo could have exercised mercy, realizing that this was a very minor infringement indeed, and that the two were, in all but the outward ceremony itself, legally married, but Angelo is a cold fish and a sadistic, ruthless dictator. He likes to hurt people and make them squirm; it gives him pleasure. Believe me, I know .

Finding himself so suddenly and inexplicably condemned to death, Claudio asked me to intercede with Angelo on his behalf and see if I could secure a pardon. This I did, with disastrous results: Angelo told me he was in love with me , and he would only let Claudio go if I slept with him .

Now, while I do realize that in many people’s eyes to give up one’s virginity for one’s brother’s life might not seem too much to ask, you must bear in mind that I was to join the votarists of St Clare. I was to be married to God. This was my life, my destiny, and all of that – my very soul itself – would be sacrificed if I gave in to Angelo’s base demands.

And don’t think I didn’t care about Claudio. Don’t think for a moment that the thought of complying didn’t cross my mind, but I wasn’t going to give in to that kind of blackmail. I didn’t trust Angelo anyway. For all I knew, he might take my virginity and have Claudio executed as well – which, as it turned out, was exactly what he had in mind.

The whole process was degrading, me pleading passionately for my brother’s life, going down on my knees on the cold stone to beg, Angelo making it clear that only by yielding up my body to his will could I save Claudio. Humiliating.

When I told him my decision, Claudio wasn’t at all understanding. Of everyone, he should have been the one to see how important my virginity was, but no. He even had the effrontery to suggest that I should reconsider and commit this vile sin to save his life. Claudio was afraid of death, and all he could talk about was his fear of dying when I was facing a much greater enemy than death.

I told him he would find his comfort in the bosom of the Lord. He didn’t seem to agree.

Where was the wily duke during all this? You may well ask. As it turns out he was secretly directing events, disguised as a friar, and he was the one who came up with a cunning plan. He may be of a tender and mild disposition, but he has a devious mind and he likes to play games. Nor does he always stop to think who might get hurt by them.

Angelo had once been betrothed to a woman called Mariana, but her dowry went down on the same ship as her brother Frederick, and Angelo left her in tears, pretending he had discovered some stain on her honour when it was, in fact, the loss of the dowry that turned him against her. If you needed any more evidence of his worthlessness, that’s the kind of person he is.

Now, if I were to go back to Angelo and pretend to agree to his demands, the friar suggested, we could arrange things so that Mariana went to his chamber in my stead, breaking no laws and saving both my virginity and Claudio’s life.

It seemed a very good plan, and it worked, though the friar did have to do a little juggling with severed heads later on to convince Angelo that Claudio had indeed been beheaded. Then, for reasons of his own, the friar let me go on believing that Claudio had been executed – I did say he likes to play games, didn’t I? – until the final scenes had been played out.

He had Mariana beg for Angelo’s life, and the poor woman importuned me to beg with her! Thus, I found myself on my knees for a second time, this time pleading for the life of a man I hated, the man who, I thought, had killed my brother even though, he thought, he had enjoyed the treasures of my body.

So is it any wonder I was speechless when in walked Claudio, as alive as you or I, and the duke announced that I was to be his duchess?

I could have said no, I suppose, but at the time I was too stunned to say anything, and the next thing I knew we were married.

Though it took me many months, I got over the shock of it all and adapted myself as best I could to my new life. I hadn’t actually taken my vows, so there was no legal problem with the marriage. The duke took over Vienna again and enforced the law himself, tempered with mercy and charity, and things were back on an even keel. I’m not saying that fornication ceased. That could never happen here. We Viennese are an odd lot, our lives full of secret vices and lies, and anyone with an interest in the human mind and perverse behaviour would have a field day studying us.

Being the duke’s wife had many advantages, I soon found, though I did have some trouble adjusting to his husbandly demands. He wasn’t a young man, but he was certainly vigorous, though he needed certain props to help him perform those functions he liked so much. In particular, he liked to dress as a friar and intone Latin vespers when he took me from behind, as was his wont. That, I could deal with, but I drew the line when he asked me to dress as a nun. That would have been far too much of a travesty for me to take, given everything that had happened.

So time passed, and on the whole I quite enjoyed the life of idleness and luxury. I loved my horses, enjoyed the theatre and the frequent grand balls, and I came to rely on the kind attentions of my maids and the delicious concoctions of my cooks. As I say, the sacrifices were bearable. Once in a while, I had a wistful thought for the life I might have led, but I must confess that when I hosted a magnificent banquet or walked the grounds and gardens of our wonderful palace, the thought of a bare, cold, tiny cloister lost much of its appeal. Mind you, I still attended church regularly and prayed every night, and we gave generously to the votarists of St Clare.

You might be interested in knowing what happened to the others. Claudio and Juliet were married, after which they moved to the country. By all accounts they are happy enough, though we don’t see them very often. Angelo and Mariana were also married – it was her wish, the duke’s dictate, and in accord with the law – but their story didn’t end happily at all. Well, how could it with an evil, sadistic pervert like Angelo for a husband? Mariana is very sweet, but she is such a naif when it comes to men. Even back when I was headed for the convent I had more idea than she did.