Part 2

What was my astonishment, on arriving at the villa or palazzo, at beholding on the wall in the court a large shield bearing the three horns. Sir John Edgar informed me that it was the shield of the Guicciardini family, who at one time inhabited the mansion. I related to him the story, and he said, "I should think that tale had been invented by some one who knew Guicciardini, the author, very well, for it is perfectly inspired with the spirit of his writings. It depicts the man himself as I have conceived him."

Then we went into the library, where my host showed me Fenton's translation of the "History" of Guicciardini and his "Maxims" in Italian, remarking that the one which I have placed as motto to this chapter was in fact an epitome of the whole legend.

I should observe, what did not before occur to me, that the family palace of the Guicciardini is in the Via Guicciardini, nearly opposite to the house of Machiavelli, and that it is there that the fairies probably called, if it was in the winter-time.

THE PILLS OF THE MEDICI

"When I upon a time was somewhat ill, Then every man did press on me a cure; And when my wife departed, all of them Came crowding round, commending me a spouse; But now my ass is dead, not one of them Has offered me another--devil a one!"--_Spanish Jests_.

"_Tu vai cercando il mal_, _come fanno i Medici_"--"Thou goest about seeking evil, even as the Medici do, and of thee and of them it may be said, _Anagyram commoves_."--_Italian Proverbs_, A.D. 1618.

The higher a tree grows, the more do petty animals burrow into its roots, and displace the dirt to show how it grew in lowly earth; and so it is with great families, who never want for such investigators, as appears by the following tale, which refers to the origin of the Medicis, yet which is withal rather merry than malicious.

D'UNO MEDICO CHE CURAVA GLI ASINI.

"It was long ago--so long, Signore Carlo, that the oldest olive-tree in Tuscany had not been planted, and when wolves sometimes came across the Ponte Vecchio into the town to look into the shop-windows, and ghosts and witches were as common by night as Christians by day, that there was a man in Florence who hated work, and who had observed, early as the age was, that those who laboured the least were the best paid. And he was always repeating to himself:

"'Con arte e con inganno, Si vive mezzo l'anno, Con inganno, e con arte, Si vive l'altra parte.'

"Or in English:

"'With tricks and cleverness, 'tis clear, A man can live six months i' the year, And then with cleverness and tricks He'll live as well the other six.'

"Now having come across a recipe for making pills which were guaranteed to cure everything, he resolved to set up for an universal doctor, and that with nothing but the pills to aid. So he went forth from Florence, wandering from one village to another, selling his pills, curing some people, and getting, as often happens, fame far beyond his deserts, so that the peasants began to believe he could remedy all earthly ills.

"And at last one day a stupid contadino, who had lost his ass, went to the doctor and asked him whether by his art and learning he could recover for him the missing animal. Whereupon the doctor gave him six pills at a _quattrino_ (a farthing) each, and bade him wander forth thinking intently all the time on the delinquent donkey, and, to perfect the spell, to walk in all the devious ways and little travelled tracks, solitary by-paths, and lonely _sentieri_, ever repeating solemnly, '_Asino mio_! _asino mio_! _Tu che amo come un zio_!'

"'Oh my ass! my ass! my ass! Whom I loved like an uncle, Alas! alas!'

"And having done this for three days, it came to pass, and no great wonder either, that he found Signore Somaro (or Don Key) comfortably feasting in a dark lane on thistles. After which he praised to the skies the virtue of the wonderful pills, by means of which one could find strayed cattle. And from this dated the doctor's success, so that he grew rich and founded the family of the Medici, who, in commemoration of this their great ancestor, put the six pills into their shield, as you may see all over Florence to this day."

* * * * *

There is given in the "Facezie" a story which may be intended as a jest on this family. It is as follows:

"It happened once that a certain doctor or _medico_, who was by no means wanting in _temerita_ or bold self-conceit, was sent as ambassador to Giovanna la Superba, or Joanna the Proud, Queen of Naples. And this Florentine Medico having heard many tales of the gallantries of the royal lady, thought he would try the chance, and thereby greatly please himself, and also the better advance his political aims. Therefore, at the first interview, he told her that he was charged with a secret mission, which could only be confided to her 'between four eyes,' or in private. So he was taken by her into a room, where he bluntly made a proposal of love. {8}

"Then the Queen, not in the least discomposed, looking straight at him, asked if that was one of the questions or demands with which he had been charged by the Florentines. At which he blushed like a beet and had no more to say, having learned that a bold beggar deserves a stern refusal."

The name of the Medici naturally gave rise to many jests, and one of these is narrated of Gonella, a famous _farceur_. It is as follows:

"One morning, at the table of the Grand Duke Lorenzo, there was a discussion as to the number and proportion of those who followed different trades and callings, one declaring that there were more clothmakers, another more priests than any others, till at last the host asked Gonella his opinion.

"'I am sure,' said Gonella, 'that there are more doctors than any other kind of people--_e non accade dubitarne_--and there is no use in doubting it.'

"'Little do you know about it,' replied the Duke, 'if you do not know that in all this city there are only two or three accredited physicians.'

"'With how little knowledge,' answered Gonella, 'can a state be governed. It seems, O Excellency, that you have so much to do that you do not know what is in your city, nor what the citizens do.' And the result of the debate was a bet, and Gonella took every bet offered, his stakes being small and the others great--_A quattrino e quattrino si fa il fiorino_--Farthings to farthings one by one make a pound when all is done.

"The next morning Gonella, having well wrapped up his throat and face in woollen stuff, stood, looking pitifully enough, at the door of the Duomo, and every one who passed asked him what was the matter, to which he replied, 'All my teeth ache terribly.' And everybody offered him an infallible remedy, which he noted down, and with it the name of him who gave it. And then going about town, he made out during the day a list of three hundred prescribers, with as many prescriptions.

"And last of all he went to the palace at the hour of supper, and the Grand Duke seeing him so wrapped up, asked the cause, and hearing that it was toothache, also prescribed a sovereign remedy, and Gonella put it with the name of the Duke at the head of the list. And going home, he had the whole fairly engrossed, and the next day, returning to the palace, was reminded of his bets. Whereupon he produced the paper, and great was the laughter which it caused, since it appeared by it that all the first citizens and nobles of Florence were physicians, and that the Grand Duke himself was their first Medico. So it was generally admitted that Gonella had won, and they paid him the money, with which he made merry for many days."

This tale has been retold by many a writer, but by none better than by an American feuilletoniste, who improved it by giving a number of the prescriptions commended. Truly it has been well said that at forty years of age every man is either a fool or a physician.

I have another legend of the Medici, in which it is declared that their armorial symbol is a key, and in which they are spoken of as wicked and cruel. It is as follows:

I MEDICI.

"The Palazzo Medici is situated in the Borgo degli Albizzi, and this palace is called by the people _I Visacchi_ (_i.e._, figures or faces), because there are to be seen in it many figures of people who were when alive all witches and wizards, but who now live a life in death in stone.

"The arms of the Medici bear a great key, and it is said that this was a sorcerer's or magic key, which belonged to the master of all the wizards or to the queen of the witches.

"And being ever evil at heart and cruelly wicked, the old Medici sought restlessly every opportunity to do wrong, which was greatly aided by the queen of the witches herself, who entered the family, and allied herself to one of it; others say she was its first ancestress. And that being on her death-bed, she called her husband, or son, or the family, and said:

"'Take this key, and when I am dead, open a certain door in the cellar, which, through secret passages, leads to an enchanted garden, in which you will find all the books and apparatus needed to acquire great skill in sorcery, and thus thou canst do all the evil and enjoy all the crime that a great ruler can desire; spare not man in thy vengeance, nor woman in thy passion; he lives best who wishes for most and gets what he wants.'

"Thus it came to pass that the Medici became such villains, and why they bear a key."

Villains they may have been, but they were not so deficient in moral dignity as a friend of mine, who, observing that one of the pills in their scutcheon is blue, remarked that they were the first to take a blue pill.

Since the above was written I have collected many more, and indeed far more interesting and amusing legends of the Medici; especially several referring to Lorenzo the Magnificent, which are not given by any writer that I am aware of. These will appear, I trust, in a second series.

"A race which was the reflex of an age So strange, so flashed with glory, so bestarred With splendid deeds, so flushed with rainbow hues, That one forgot the dark abyss of night Which covered it at last when all was o'er. Take all that's evil and unto it add All that is glorious, and the result Will be, in one brief word, the Medici."

FURICCHIA, OR THE EGG-WOMAN OF THE MERCATO VECCHIO

"Est anus inferno, vel formidanda barathro, Saga diu magicis usa magisteriis, Haec inhians ova gallina matre creatis. Obsipat assueto pharmaca mixta cibo, Pharmaca queis quaecunque semel gallina voratis, Ova decem pariat bis deciesque decem."

STEUCCIUS, _cited by_ P. GOLDSCHMIDT, _Verworffener Hexen und Zauberadvocat_. Hamburg, 1705.

"E un figliuolo della gallina bianca."--_Old Proverb_.

The Mercato Vecchio was fertile in local traditions, and one of these is as follows:

LEGEND OF THE LANTERNS.

"There was in the Old Market of Florence an old house with a small shop in it, and over the door was the figure or bas-relief of a pretty hen, to show that eggs were sold there.

"All the neighbours were puzzled to know how the woman who kept this shop could sell so many eggs as she did, or whence she obtained them, for she was never seen in the market buying any, nor were they brought to her; whence they concluded that she was a witch and an egg-maker, and this scandal was especially spread by her rivals in business. But others found her a very good person, of kindly manner, and it was noted in time that she not only did a great deal of good in charity, and that her eggs were not only always fresh and warm, but that many persons who had drunk them when ill had been at once relieved, and recovered in consequence. And the name of this egg-wife was Furicchia.

"Now there was an old lady who had gone down in the world or become poor, and she too had set up a shop to sell eggs, but did not succeed, chiefly because everybody went to Furicchia. And this made the former more intent than ever to discover the secret, and she at once went to work to find it out.

"Every morning early, when Furicchia rose, she went out of doors, and then the hen carved over the door came down as a beautiful white fowl, who told her all the slanders and gossip which people spread about her, and what effort was being made to discover her secret. And one day it said:

"'There is the Signora who was once rich and who is now poor, and who has sworn to find out thy secret how thou canst have so many eggs to sell, since no one sees thee buy any, and how it comes that invalids and bewitched children are at once cured by the virtue of those eggs. So she hopes to bring thee to death, and to get all thy trade.

"'But, dear Furicchia, this shall never be, because I will save thee. I well remember how, when I was a little chicken, and the poultry dealer had bought me, and was about to wring my neck--b'r'r'r!--I shudder when I think of it!--when thou didst save my life, and I will ever be grateful to thee, and care for thy fortune.

"'Now I will tell thee what to do. Thou shalt to-morrow take a pot and fill it with good wine and certain drugs, and boil them well, and leave it all hot in thy room, and then go forth, and for the rest I will provide. _Addio_, Furicchia!' And saying this, the hen went back into her accustomed place.

"So the next morning, Furicchia, having left the wine boiling, went forth at ten o'clock, and she was hardly gone ere the Signora, her rival, entered the place and called for the mistress, but got no answer. Then she went into the house, but saw nothing more than a vast quantity of eggs, and all the while she heard the hen singing or clucking:

"'_Coccode_! Dear me! Where can Furicchia be? _Coccode_! Furicchia mine! Bring me quick some warm red wine! _Coccode_! Three eggs I have laid! _Coccode_! Now six for your trade. _Coccode_! Now there are nine, Bring me quickly the warm red wine! _Coccode_! Take them away; Many more for thee will I lay, And thou wilt be a lady grand, As fine as any in all the land; And should it happen that any one Drinks of this wine as I have done, Eggs like me she will surely lay; That is the secret, that is the way. _Coccode_! _Coccode_!'

"Now the Signora heard all this, and knew not whence the song came, but she found the pot of hot wine and drank it nearly all, but had not time to finish it nor to escape before Furicchia returned. And the latter began to scold her visitor for taking such liberty, to which the Signora replied, 'Furicchia, I came in here to buy an egg, and being shivering with cold, and seeing this hot wine, I drank it, meaning indeed to pay for it.' But Furicchia replied, 'Get thee gone; thou hast only come here to spy out my secret, and much good may it do thee!'

"The Signora went home, when she begun to feel great pain, and also, in spite of herself, to cluck like a hen, to the amazement of everybody, and then sang:

"'_Coccode_! Che mal di corpo! _Coccode_! Voglio fa l'uovo! E se l'uova non faro, Di dolore moriro.'

"'_Coccode_! What a pain in my leg! _Coccode_! I must lay an egg! And if my eggs I cannot lay, I shall surely die to-day.'

"Then she began to lay eggs indeed--_tante_, _tante_--till they nearly filled all the room, and truly her friends were aghast at such a sight, never having heard of such a thing before; but she replied, 'Keep quiet; it is a secret. I have found out how Furicchia gets her eggs, and we shall be as rich as she.' And having laid her eggs, nothing would do but she must needs hatch them, and all the time for many days she sat and sat, clucking like a hen--_coccode_! _coccode_!--and pecking at crusts like a hen, for she would not eat in any other way. And so she sat and shrivelled up until she became a hen indeed, and was never anything else, and died one. But when the eggs hatched, there came from them not chicks, but mice, which ran away into the cellar, and so ends the story."

* * * * *

This story greatly resembles one given by Peter Goldschmidt in "The Witches' and Sorcerers' Advocate Overthrown," published at Hamburg in 1705, and to the same as sung in Latin song by a certain Steuccius. The Italian tale is, however, far better told in every respect, the only point in common being that a certain witch laid eggs by means of a potion, which produced the same effect on a man. It is the well-managed play of curiosity, gratitude, and character which make Furicchia so entertaining, and there is nothing in the heavy German tale like the "Song of the Hen," or _Coccode_, which is a masterpiece of a juvenile lyric. The clucking and pecking at crusts of the old woman, as she gradually passes into a hen, is well imagined, and also the finale of the chickens turned to mice, who all run away. One could make of it a play for the nursery or the stage.

The Mercato Vecchio, in which the egg-wife dwelt, was a place of common resort in the olden time, "when there was giving and taking of talk on topics temporal:"

"Where the good news fleetly flew, And the bad news ever true, Softly whispered, loudly told, Scalding hot or freezing cold." {14}

This place is recalled by a story which is indeed to be found in the facetiae of the Florentine Poggio, yet which holds its own to this day in popular tale-telling. It is as follows:

"It happened once when Florence was at war with the Duke of Milan, that a law was passed making it death for any one to speak in any way of peace. Now there was a certain Bernardo Manetti, a man _di ingegno vivacissimo_, or an extremely ready wit, who being one day in the Mercato Vecchio to buy something or other (it being the custom of the Florentines of those times to go in person to purchase their daily food), was much annoyed by one of those begging friars who go about the roads, _alla questua_, collecting alms, and who stand at street-corners imploring charity. And this brazen beggar, accosting Bernardo, said to him:

"'_Pax vobiscum_! Peace be unto you!'

"'_A chi parlasti di pace_?--How darest thou speak to me of _peace_, thou traitor and enemy to Florence?' cried Bernardo in well-assumed anger. 'Dost thou not know that by public decree thou may'st lose thy shaven head for mentioning the word? And thou darest ask me for alms here in the open market-place, thou traitor to thy country and thy God! _Apage_, _Satanas_--avaunt!--begone! lest I be seen talking to thee and taken for a conspirator myself! _Pax_ indeed--pack off with you, ere I hand you over to the torturers!'

"And so he rid himself of that importunate beggar."

Apropos of the egg-wife, if chickens are apropos to eggs, there is a merry tale of a certain priest, which will, I think, amuse the reader. Like all good folk, the Florentines make fun of their neighbours, among whom are of course included the people of Arezzo, and tell of them this story:

"Long long ago, a certain Bishop Angelico convoked a Synod at Arezzo, summoning every priest in his diocese to be present; and knowing that many had slipped into very slovenly habits as regarded the sacerdotal uniform, made it a stern and strict order that every one should appear in _cappa e cotta_,' {15} or in cloak and robe.

"Now there was a priest who, though he kept a well-filled cellar, and a pretty servant-maid, and a fine poultry-yard, had none of these clerical vestments, and knew not where to borrow them for the occasion; so he was in great distress and _stavasi molto afflitto in casa sua_--sat in deep affliction in his home. And his maid, who was a bright and clever girl, seeing him so cast down, asked him the cause of his grief, to which he replied that the Bishop had summoned him to appear at the Synod in _cappa e cotta_.

"'Oh, nonsense!' replied the good girl. 'Is that all? My dear master, you do not pronounce the words quite correctly, or else they have been badly reported to you. It is not _cappa e cotta_ which the Bishop requires, for assuredly he has plenty of such clothes, but _capponi cotti_, 'good roast capons,' such as all bishops love, and which he knows he can get better from the country priests than from anybody. And _grazie a Dio_! there is nobody in all Tuscany has better poultry than ours, and I will take good care that you give the Bishop of the very best.'

"Now the priest being persuaded by the maid, really made his appearance at the Council bearing in a dish well covered with a napkin four of the finest roasted capons ever seen. And with these he advanced _in pleno concilo_, in full assembly before the Bishop. The great man looked severely at the priest, and said:

"'Where are thy _cappa e cotta_?'

"'Excellenza, behold them!' said the good man, uncovering the dish. 'And though I say it, no better _capponi cotte_ can be had in all our country.'

"The Bishop and all round him gazed with breathless admiration on the fowls, so plump, so delicious, so exquisitely roasted, with lemons ranged round them. It was just the hungry time of day, and, in short, the priest had made a blessed happy blunder, and one which was greatly admired. There was general applause.

"'_Figlio mio_!' said the Bishop with a smile, 'take my blessing! Thou alone of all the ministers of our diocese didst rightly understand the spirit and meaning of an episcopal edict.'"

THE LANTERNS OF THE STROZZI PALACE

"And what this man did was, as the proverb says, _mostrare altrui lucciole per laterne_--made him believe that fire-flies were lanterns--which means to deceive any one."--_Italian Proverbs_.

As all visitors to Florence will have their attention called to the Strozzi Palace, and its rings and lanterns, the following will probably prove to them to be of interest:

"The _campanelle_, or great iron rings, which are on the Strozzi Palace, were the result of rivalry with the Pitti family.

"The Strozzi built their palace first, and then the Pitti said that it would only fill a corner of their own far greater building. And when the latter was finished, the Strozzi, to be even with them, placed those magnificent _campanelle_ at the four corners, and then the great lanterns which are so exquisitely worked, and these were made by Niccolo il Grosso, a very ingenious but also very poor man, who, having begun the work, could not finish it for want of money.

"One morning when this Niccolo was sitting on the stone bench of the palace, there came by an old man who was carrying some onions, and the artist begged a few of these to eat with his bread, telling him he had no money. But the old man said, 'Take them, and welcome, for a free gift, Niccolo. Truly, it pains me to see an excellent artist like thee starving for want of proper patronage. Now I will lend thee a round sum, which thou canst repay me when thou art in better luck.'

"'But tell me,' inquired Niccolo, greatly amazed, 'how dost thou know who I am?'

"The old man replied, 'I know thee, and that thou hast great genius (_una gran testa_), and I find thee utterly poor and unable to finish the Strozzi lanterns.