Page 194 - The Grotesque Children's Book

you must seek elsewhere, as neither is to be found in the tragic tale of Francesco, Bianca, Pietro
and Joanna. Do not despair entirely, for surely, surely for every four who are struck down by
tragedy, there are four who flew away and managed happier lives for themselves. Moral: Just
because you clean away the flecks of life does not mean you can escape the filth of death.
Morals do not always make sense to us. God works in mysterious ways. The prosecution rests.)

-- a modest strand of pearls. Francesco had chosen pearls because after an initial inquiry
into the face in the window had revealed her to be of the Cappello family from Venice, he
thought to send her a symbol from her homeland, tied as it was to the water and commerce from
the sea. Plus, thought Francesco with self-adoring guile, her very name Bianca Cappello means
“white-head” -- no, strike that -- white-round. Even better! Just like the pearl. How clever am
I? Francesco loved his symbols. The fact that Bianca's last name now was no longer
Whiteround but Goodluck somehow didn't matter to Francesco, any more than did the existence
of a husband. A bank clerk at that! scoffed Francesco. He hasn't a chance.

When she received the pearls with a note proclaiming they were from some Medici, her
first thought was to reject them. It's probably my family's scheming, she thought, to acquire me
again. They're probably miserable I've run away and married someone as lovely as Pietro.
They've probably dashed Vincenzio Venno's dreams and have moved on to some other pustule of
a man, hoping this time to snare for me someone so rich and so powerful that I'll denounce
Pietro and come crawling back to them. What, and give up sweeping?

Pietro had other thoughts about the pearls. Might be of some value to both of us. Let's not
be too hasty to return them, dear. He was less enamored of menial tasks than Bianca, and was
still hoping for some working capital of his own. He was by no means considering offering up
his beautiful young wife as a commodity to purchased. But the Medici seal on the box which
had contained the pearls...! And if some Medici had set his sights upon his wife, there were to
and only two outcomes possible: she ends up in the arms of the Medici scoundrel and Pietro
himself is dead; or she ends up in the arms of the Medici scoundrel and Pietro figures out a
gentlemanly way to acknowledge it's happening, and survives. Undignified to a man's pride,
perhaps, thought Pietro, but this single strand of pearls could pay our lodging for a year. “Let's
consider our options, Bianca,” he said, “before you return the pearls and neither of us lives to
regret it.”

But Bianca had already decided to reject the pearls and the pustule. There was little
difference in her mind between marrying a horrid gonfaloniere or a horrid Medici. The goiter or
the pustule. “I'm quite happy with you, Pietro,” she said, simply and sweetly. “Let's not ruin it
over some jewelry from a desperate man.”

But the next day the stranger who had flooded her heart appeared again, looking up at her
window. The young, dashing, bold man gave a click of his boots and an elegant courtly bow
from the waist, a first for Bianca, who had never been bowed at before. He held in his hands a
small box which he raised towards her like an offering to a goddess. From her window, she
could see the box was white and gold, tied with a ribbon. Then he walked on, not looking back a
second time.

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