In this general distraction, the Florentine boys, who were never wanting in any street scene, and were of an especially mischievous sortas who should say, very sour crabs indeedsaw a great opportunity. Some made a rush at the nuts and dried figs, others preferred the farinaceous delicacies at the cooked provision stallsdelicacies to which certain four-footed dogs also, who had learned to take kindly to Lenten fare, applied a discriminating nostril, and then disappeared with much rapidity under the nearest shelter; while the mules, not without some kicking and plunging among impeding baskets, were stretching their muzzles towards the aromatic green-meat.
Diavolo! said Bratti, as he and his companion came, quite unnoticed, upon the noisy scene; the Mercato is gone as mad as if the most Holy Father had excommunicated us again. I must know what this is. But never fear: it seems a thousand years to you till you see the pretty Tessa, and get your cup of milk; but keep hold of me, and Ill hold to my bargain. Remember, Im to have the first bid for your suit, specially for the hose, which, with all their stains, are the best panno di garboas good as ruined, though, with mud and weather stains.
Ola, Monna Trecca, Bratti proceeded, turning towards an old woman on the outside of the nearest group, who for the moment had suspended her wail to listen, and shouting close in her ear: Here are the mules upsetting all your bunches of parsley: is the world coming to an end, then?
Monna Trecca (equivalent to Dame Greengrocer) turned round at this unexpected trumpeting in her right ear, with a half-fierce, half-bewildered look, first at the speaker, then at her disarranged commodities, and then at the speaker again.
A bad Easter and a bad year to you, and may you die by the sword! she burst out, rushing towards her stall, but directing this first volley of her wrath against Bratti, who, without heeding the malediction, quietly slipped into her place, within hearing of the narrative which had been absorbing her attention; making a sign at the same time to the younger stranger to keep near him.
I tell you I saw it myself, said a fat man, with a bunch of newly-purchased leeks in his hand. I was in Santa Maria Novella, and saw it myself. The woman started up and threw out her arms, and cried out and said she saw a big bull with fiery horns coming down on the church to crush it. I saw it myself.
Saw what, Goro? said a man of slim figure, whose eye twinkled rather roguishly. He wore a close jerkin, a skull-cap lodged carelessly over his left ear as if it had fallen there by chance, a delicate linen apron tucked up on one side, and a razor stuck in his belt. Saw the bull, or only the woman?
Why, the woman, to be sure; but its all one, mi pare: it doesnt alter the meaningva! answered the fat man, with some contempt.
Meaning? no, no; thats clear enough, said several voices at once, and then followed a confusion of tongues, in which Lights shooting over San Lorenzo for three nights togetherThunder in the clear starlightLantern of the Duomo struck with the sword of Saint MichaelPalle (Arms of the Medici)All smashedLions tearing each other to piecesAh! and they might wellBoto1 caduto in Santissima Nunziata!Died like the best of ChristiansGod will have pardoned himwere often-repeated phrases, which shot across each other like storm-driven hailstones, each speaker feeling rather the necessity of utterance than of finding a listener. Perhaps the only silent members of the group were Bratti, who, as a new-comer, was busy in mentally piecing together the flying fragments of information; the man of the razor; and a thin-lipped, eager-looking personage in spectacles, wearing a pen-and-ink case at his belt.
Ebbene, Nello, said Bratti, skirting the group till he was within hearing of the barber. It appears the Magnifico is deadrest his soul!and the price of wax will rise?
Even as you say, answered Nello; and then added, with an air of extra gravity, but with marvellous rapidity, and his waxen image in the Nunziata fell at the same moment, they say; or at some other time, whenever it pleases the Frati Serviti, who know best. And several cows and women have had still-born calves this Quaresima; and for the bad eggs that have been broken since the Carnival, nobody has counted them. Ah! a great mana great politiciana greater poet than Dante. And yet the cupola didnt fall, only the lantern. Che miracolo!
A sharp and lengthened Pst! was suddenly heard darting across the pelting storm of gutturals. It came from the pale man in spectacles, and had the effect he intended; for the noise ceased, and all eyes in the group were fixed on him with a look of expectation.
Tis well said you Florentines are blind, he began, in an incisive high voice. It appears to me, you need nothing but a diet of hay to make cattle of you. What! do you think the death of Lorenzo is the scourge God has prepared for Florence? Go! you are sparrows chattering praise over the dead hawk. What! a man who was trying to slip a noose over every neck in the Republic that he might tighten it at his pleasure! You like that; you like to have the election of your magistrates turned into closet-work, and no man to use the rights of a citizen unless he is a Medicean. That is what is meant by qualification now: netto di specchio2 no longer means that a man pays his dues to the Republic: it means that hell wink at robbery of the peoples moneyat robbery of their daughters dowries; that hell play the chamberer and the philosopher by turnslisten to bawdy songs at the Carnival and cry Bellissimi!and listen to sacred lauds and cry again Bellissimi! But this is what you love: you grumble and raise a riot over your quattrini bianchi (white farthings); but you take no notice when the public treasury has got a hole in the bottom for the gold to run into Lorenzos drains. You like to pay for footmen to walk before and behind one of your citizens, that he may be affable and condescending to you. See, what a tall Pisan we keep, say you, to march before him with the drawn sword flashing in our eyes!and yet Lorenzo smiles at us. What goodness! And you think the death of a man, who would soon have saddled and bridled you as the Sforza has saddled and bridled Milanyou think his death is the scourge God is warning you of by portents. I tell you there is another sort of scourge in the air.
Nay, nay, Ser Cioni, keep astride your politics, and never mount your prophecy; politics is the better horse, said Nello. But if you talk of portents, what portent can be greater than a pious notary? Balaams ass was nothing to it.
Ay, but a notary out of work, with his inkbottle dry, said another bystander, very much out at elbows. Better don a cowl at once, Ser Cioni: everybody will believe in your fasting.
The notary turned and left the group with a look of indignant contempt, disclosing, as he did so, the sallow but mild face of a short man who had been standing behind him, and whose bent shoulders told of some sedentary occupation.
By San Giovanni, though, said the fat purchaser of leeks, with the air of a person rather shaken in his theories, I am not sure there isnt some truth in what Ser Cioni says. For I know I have good reason to find fault with the quattrini bianchi myself. Grumble, did he say? Suffocation! I should think we do grumble; and, let anybody say the word, Ill turn out into the piazza with the readiest, sooner than have our money altered in our hands as if the magistracy were so many necromancers. And its true Lorenzo might have hindered such work if he wouldand for the bull with the flaming horns, why, as Ser Cioni says, there may be many meanings to it, for the matter of that; it may have more to do with the taxes than we think. For when God above sends a sign, its not to be supposed hed have only one meaning.