daring.'
'You live in such a bitter world.'
'I am not bitter. I see the world as it is and no more. What is plain to me is that if you could marry this girl tomorrow with the blessing of her father and yours she would hold no more allure for you than a whore in a doorway.'
'One day it will happen to you.'
'Only if I lose my wits. Abbas, you are my greatest friend in the world. But I wish you would listen to me. A woman is just a woman and the world is full of them. She is something soft to lie on and a warm and giving place to spill your seed. I allow that a woman might be a boon companion and one day I shall have a wife to keep my home and children. But when I marry I will let my head do the choosing and not my heart. A man who does otherwise is a fool.'
'Then I am a fool because I promise you I will love her forever.'
'If you love her until next week I will give you two gold ducats.'
'I feel sorry for you, Ludovici. You feel nothing inside. But one day you will, life will seek you out and make you feel again. As for me, I shall find the greatest part of me in loving truly.'
'You're just in love with loving.'
'You'll see, Ludovici. You'll see. You should give me the two ducats now.'
Ludovici laughed and shook his head. He dropped the wine flask he was holding and it shattered on the cobblestones. Somewhere above them a man in a nightshirt ran up the shutters and called for the night watch. Ludovici and Abbas ran away down the calle , laughing.
***
Gonzaga sat in his study, staring gloomily into the candle. A painting of the Death of the Virgin by Carpaccio dominated the room; two smaller offerings, a Virgin and Child by Bellini and a portrait of himself, for which he had commissioned Palma Vecchio five years before, hung on either side of it. Two bronzes by Il Riccio stood above the fireplace.
There was a timid knock at the door.
'Yes?'
'Signora Cavalcanti, Excellency.'
'Enter.'
The duenna crept into the room and bent to kiss the sleeve of his velvet gown. 'You sent for me, Excellency?'
'I did. I am deeply troubled, Signora Cavalcanti.'
'No failing on my part, I hope?'
Gonzaga examined the sumptuous alto e basso weave on his gown and picked at a piece of lint. He removed it with elaborate care. 'I do not know, Signora.'
She wrung her hands. 'I assure Your Excellency I have been most diligent in my duties.'
'Have you?'
The old lady looked terrified.
'I believe Mistress Julia is concealing something from you.' The duenna was trembling, he noted with satisfaction. An old trick, of course, eliciting the fullest confession from mere suspicion, but it always worked.
'I do not think so, Excellency.'
'Really? Has she spoken much to you about the joyous occasion of her wedding?'
'Very little, Excellency.'
'The anticipation of it brings her no pleasure?'
'Well … I am sure she is most overjoyed.'
Gonzaga gave her time to think, or at least invent something. He busied himself with the stole that hung around his shoulders. 'She is never left unattended?'
Ah, there it was! The slightest lowering of the eyes, the merest hint of a blush in her cheeks. He watched her prepare the lie. 'No, Excellency.'
He sighed and pretended to relent. 'Keep an eye on her. A very close eye. Do you understand?'
'Yes, Your Excellency. I understand very well indeed.' She turned with uncommon haste towards the door.
Well, that should do it, he thought. He had frightened her badly, as he had intended, and put her on notice. If there was something he should know, she would find out about it and bring her discovery back to him as an offering, like a dog with a rat. A murmured word of thanks and his great disappointment in his daughter would be her lavish reward.
He spared a glance for the Virgin in her extremis . He was sure she would approve of his intent, if not his methods. But then, she never had a beautiful daughter.
Chapter 22
Julia and Lucia sat on the terrazzo , their lacework resting on their knees, as
'You live in such a bitter world.'
'I am not bitter. I see the world as it is and no more. What is plain to me is that if you could marry this girl tomorrow with the blessing of her father and yours she would hold no more allure for you than a whore in a doorway.'
'One day it will happen to you.'
'Only if I lose my wits. Abbas, you are my greatest friend in the world. But I wish you would listen to me. A woman is just a woman and the world is full of them. She is something soft to lie on and a warm and giving place to spill your seed. I allow that a woman might be a boon companion and one day I shall have a wife to keep my home and children. But when I marry I will let my head do the choosing and not my heart. A man who does otherwise is a fool.'
'Then I am a fool because I promise you I will love her forever.'
'If you love her until next week I will give you two gold ducats.'
'I feel sorry for you, Ludovici. You feel nothing inside. But one day you will, life will seek you out and make you feel again. As for me, I shall find the greatest part of me in loving truly.'
'You're just in love with loving.'
'You'll see, Ludovici. You'll see. You should give me the two ducats now.'
Ludovici laughed and shook his head. He dropped the wine flask he was holding and it shattered on the cobblestones. Somewhere above them a man in a nightshirt ran up the shutters and called for the night watch. Ludovici and Abbas ran away down the calle , laughing.
***
Gonzaga sat in his study, staring gloomily into the candle. A painting of the Death of the Virgin by Carpaccio dominated the room; two smaller offerings, a Virgin and Child by Bellini and a portrait of himself, for which he had commissioned Palma Vecchio five years before, hung on either side of it. Two bronzes by Il Riccio stood above the fireplace.
There was a timid knock at the door.
'Yes?'
'Signora Cavalcanti, Excellency.'
'Enter.'
The duenna crept into the room and bent to kiss the sleeve of his velvet gown. 'You sent for me, Excellency?'
'I did. I am deeply troubled, Signora Cavalcanti.'
'No failing on my part, I hope?'
Gonzaga examined the sumptuous alto e basso weave on his gown and picked at a piece of lint. He removed it with elaborate care. 'I do not know, Signora.'
She wrung her hands. 'I assure Your Excellency I have been most diligent in my duties.'
'Have you?'
The old lady looked terrified.
'I believe Mistress Julia is concealing something from you.' The duenna was trembling, he noted with satisfaction. An old trick, of course, eliciting the fullest confession from mere suspicion, but it always worked.
'I do not think so, Excellency.'
'Really? Has she spoken much to you about the joyous occasion of her wedding?'
'Very little, Excellency.'
'The anticipation of it brings her no pleasure?'
'Well … I am sure she is most overjoyed.'
Gonzaga gave her time to think, or at least invent something. He busied himself with the stole that hung around his shoulders. 'She is never left unattended?'
Ah, there it was! The slightest lowering of the eyes, the merest hint of a blush in her cheeks. He watched her prepare the lie. 'No, Excellency.'
He sighed and pretended to relent. 'Keep an eye on her. A very close eye. Do you understand?'
'Yes, Your Excellency. I understand very well indeed.' She turned with uncommon haste towards the door.
Well, that should do it, he thought. He had frightened her badly, as he had intended, and put her on notice. If there was something he should know, she would find out about it and bring her discovery back to him as an offering, like a dog with a rat. A murmured word of thanks and his great disappointment in his daughter would be her lavish reward.
He spared a glance for the Virgin in her extremis . He was sure she would approve of his intent, if not his methods. But then, she never had a beautiful daughter.
Chapter 22
Julia and Lucia sat on the terrazzo , their lacework resting on their knees, as
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