Legends Of Florence Part 31

"'Servants, carpets, chairs and tables, Kitchen, pantry, hall and stables, Everything above or under; All my present earthly plunder, All too small for such a wonder.'

"The lady, with a smile and a glance in which there was not the slightest trace of being startled or abashed, replied:

"''Tis not worth while your house to rifle, _O mio Signor_, for such a trifle.

'Tis but a slight indisposition, For which I'll rest, by your permission.'

"The Signore Pietro, as an improvisatore, was delighted with such a ready answer, and remarking that he was something of a doctor, begged permission to bring a soothing cordial, admirable for the nerves, which he hoped to have the honour of placing directly in that fairy-like hand.

. . . The Signore vanished to seek the _calmante_.

"The guests had begun by this time to notice this lady, and from her extremely strange appearance they gathered round her, expecting at first to have some sport in listening to, or quizzing, an eccentric or a character. But they changed their mind as they came to consider her-some feeling an awe as if she were a _fata_, and all being finally convinced that whoever she was she had come there to _sell_ somebody amazingly cheap, nor did they feel quite a.s.sured that they themselves were not included in the bargain.

"The Signore Pietro returned with the soothing cordial; he had evidently not drunk any of it himself while on the errand, for there was a ma.s.sive chased iron table inlaid with gold and silver in his way, and the mighty lord with an angry blow from his giant arm, like one from a blacksmith's No. 1 hammer, broke it, adding an artisan-like oath, and knocked it over.

Flirtation had begun.

"'Did you hurt yourself, Signore?' asked the lady amiably.

"'Not I, indeed,' he replied proudly. 'A Stone is my name, but it ought to have been Iron, lady, for I am hard as nails, a regular Ferrone or big man of iron, and all my ancestors were Ferroni too; ah! we are a strong lot-at your service!' Saying this he handed the cup to the lady, who drank the potion, and then, instead of giving the goblet back to the Signore Pietro, as he expected, meaning to gallantly drink off _les doux restes_, she beckoned with her finger and an upward scoop of her hand to the table, which was lying disconsolately on its back with its legs upwards, like a trussed chicken waiting to be carved, when lo! at the signal it jumped up and came walking to her like a Christian, its legs moving most humanly, and yet all present were appalled at the sight, and the Signore gasped-

"'I believe the devil's in it!'

"The lady composedly placed the draught on the table and smiled benevolently. There was something in that angelic smile which made the Signore feel as if he had been made game of. In a rage he rushed at the table, which reared up on its hind legs and showed fight with its forepaws, on which there were ma.s.sy round iron b.a.l.l.s, as on the other extremities. Truly it was a desperate battle, and both combatants covered themselves with dust and glory. Now the table would put a ball well in, and the Signore would counter, or, as I may say, cannon or cannon-ball it off; and then they would grapple and roll over and over till the Signora called them to time. At last the lord wrenched all the cannon-b.a.l.l.s off from the table, which first, making a jump to the ceiling, came down in its usual position, while the b.a.l.l.s began dancing on it like mad.

"At such a sight all present roared with laughter, and it was observed that the lady, no longer pale, flushed with merriment like a rose. As for Signore Pietro he was red as a beet, and heaved out that he had been _canzonato_ or quizzed.

"'Truly yes,' replied the lady; 'but henceforth you shall have a name, for to do you justice you are as hard as iron, and Iron you shall be called-Big Iron Ferrone-and cannon-b.a.l.l.s shall be your coat-of-arms, _in saecula saeculorum_. By edict of the Queen of the Fairies!'

"Now at this all the love in the Signore Pietro concentrated itself in his heart, pa.s.sed into his tongue, and caused him to burst forth in song in the following _ottava_, while the music accompanied:

"'Quando vedo le femmine rammone, Mi sento andare il cuore in convulsione, Hanno certe facette vispe e sane, Da fare entrare in sen la tentazione, Oh donnina! Non siate disumana!

Di Pietro abbiate compa.s.sione!

Scusante la modestia se l'e troppo Di questi personali non sene poppo.'

"'When I behold thy all too lovely features, I feel my heart in soft convulsions heaving, Thou art the most entrancing of all creatures, I tell you so in sooth, without deceiving, In fact there is no beauty which can beat yours; And Pietro loves you, lady, past believing; In b.r.e.a.s.t.s like cannon-b.a.l.l.s there's naught to blame; But oh! I hope your heart's not like the same!'

"But as this exquisite poem concluded with an immense sigh, there appeared before them a golden and pearl car, in which the fairy entered, and rising sailed away through a great hole in the ceiling, which opened before and closed behind her, Signore Pietro remaining _a bocca aperta_, gaping with opened jaws, till all was o'er.

"'Well!' exclaimed the master, 'she gave me the slip, but we have had a jolly evening of it, and I'm the first man who ever fought an iron table, and I've got a good idea. My name is now Feroni-the Big Iron Man-ladies and gentlemen, please remember, and cannon-b.a.l.l.s are in my coat-of-arms!'"

I have naturally taken some liberty as regards mere text in translating this tale, in order to render the better the spirit of the original; but not so much as may be supposed, and spirit and words are, on the whole, accurately rendered.

The reader is not to suppose that there are any traces of true history in this fairy tale. I am very greatly indebted to Miss Wyndham of Florence (who has herself made collections in folk-lore), for investigating this subject of the Feroni family, with the following result-it being premised that it had occurred to the lady that the "cannon-b.a.l.l.s" or Medicean pills, or p.a.w.nbroker's sign, whatever it was, had been attributed by mistake to the Feroni. Miss Wyndham, after consulting with authority, found that the Feroni themselves had not the b.a.l.l.s, but, owing probably to transfer of property, there is found on their palaces the Alessandri s.h.i.+eld, on which the upper half and lower left quarter contain the Medici spheres. She also sent me this extract from the old work, _Marietta di Ricci_:

"The Feroni family, originally named from Balducci da Vinci, and of peasant origin, owes its fortune to Francesco, son of Baldo di Paolo di Ferone, a dyer of Empoli. Going as a merchant to Holland, he acc.u.mulated a large fortune. Made known to Cosimo III. (just called to the Grand Duchy) by his travels, he was called to Florence. In 1673 he was made citizen of Florence, in 1674 he was elected senator, and in 1681 appointed Marquis of Bellavista. He left a colossal fortune, which has been kept up by his heirs to the present day. His grandson Guiseppe was made cardinal in 1753.

"Their arms are an arm mailed in iron, holding a sword, and above it a golden lily in a blue field."

This extract is interesting, as showing how a family could rise by industry and wealth, even in one generation, by the work of a single man, to the highest honours in Florence. And it is very remarkable that some impression of the origin of this vigorous artisan and merchant, of peasant stock, is evident in the tale. He is there clever and strong, but vulgar and familiar, so that he was not personally liked. He remains standing open-mouthed, like a comic actor, when the fairy vanishes. In fact the whole tale suggests the elements of a humorous melodrama or operetta, a _bourgeois gentilhomme_.

"And should it come to pa.s.s that any read This tale in Viesseux, his library, In the Feroni palace, let them think That, even in the rooms where they do read, The things which I have told once came to pa.s.s- Even so the echo ever haunts the shrine!"

LA VIA DELLE BELLE DONNE

"The church of San Gaetano, on the left of the Via Tornabuoni, faces the Palazzo Antinori, built by Giuliano di San Gallo. Opposite is the Via delle Belle Donne, a name, says Leigh Hunt, which it is a sort of tune to p.r.o.nounce."-HARE, _Cities of Central Italy_.

The name of this place is suggestive of a story of some kind, but it was a long time before I obtained the following relative to the Street of Pretty Women:

"In the Via delle Belle Donne there was a very large old house in which were many lodgers, male and female, who, according to their slender means, had two rooms for a family. Among these were many very pretty girls, some of them seamstresses, others corset-makers, some milliners, all employed in shops, who worked all day and then went out in the evening to carry their sewing to the _maggazini_. And it was from them that the street got its name, for it became so much the fas.h.i.+on to go and look at them that young men would say, '_Andiamo nella Via delle Belle Donne_,'-'Let us go to the Street of the Pretty Women;' so it has been so-called to this day.

"And when they sallied forth they were at once surrounded or joined by young men, who sought their company with views more or less honourable, as is usual. Among these there was a very handsome and wealthy signore named Adolfo, who was so much admired that he might have had his choice of all these belles, but he had fixed his mind on one, a beautiful blonde, who was, indeed, the fairest among them all. She had large black eyes, with quick glances, beautiful light hair in ma.s.ses, and was always dressed simply, yet with natural elegance. She had long avoided making acquaintance among men, and she now shunned Adolfo; but at last he succeeded, after many difficulties, in becoming acquainted, and finally won her heart-the end of it all being the old story of a poor girl ruined by a gay and great signor, left a mother, and then abandoned.

"For four years she lived alone, by her work, with her child, who grew up to be a very beautiful boy. Then he, noting that other children had parents, asked her continually, 'Mamma, where is my papa?'

"He gave her no rest, and at last she went to Adolfo and asked him what he would do for their child.

"He laughed at her, and said, 'Nothing. That folly is all over.

Begone!'

"Then, in a wild pa.s.sion of rage at seeing her child so despised, she stabbed him to the heart, and escaped unseen and undiscovered.

"Then, when the boy asked her again:

"'Cara madre, cara madre, Dove e lo mio padre?'

"'Mother dear, tell to me Where may my father be?'

"She replied:

"'Darling son, thy sire is dead, Lying in an earthen bed; Dead he ever will remain, By my dagger he was slain.

Had he but been kind to thee, Living still he yet would be; Other sorrows I forgave, With my dirk I dug his grave. {220}

This is but a commonplace story, yet it is such as finds more currency among the people, and particularly among girls, than many a better one.

There is a strong touch of nature, and especially of Italian nature, in the concluding lines.

THE WIZARD WITH RED TEETH

"And dost thou fear to greet The Dead with me. They graced our wedding sweet."

-MOORE, _The Veiled Prophet of Khora.s.san_.