Legends Of Florence Part 21

"There was in Florence a poor and learned gentleman-_savio e da bene_, who was a good friend of Piovano Arlotto, who was also good to him, since he had often aided the former with money, meal, and many other things, and indeed without such help he could hardly have fed his family; for he had fourteen sons and daughters, and though the proverb says _Figliuoli_, _mioli_, _'lenzuoli non sono mai troppi in una casa_-there are never too many children, gla.s.ses, or linen sheets in a house, this good man found indeed that he had too many of the former.

"Now to help dire need, this gentleman tried to buy on credit two bales of cloth, one wherewith to clothe his family, and the other to sell in order to make some money. To do this, he needed some one to be his security, and he had recourse to Piovano Arlotto, who willingly agreed to pay the manufacturer in case the friend who gave his note could not meet it. Now he found that the manufacturer had sadly cheated the purchaser in the measure or quant.i.ty, fully one-half, as was also evident to many others; however, as matters stood, he was obliged to let it pa.s.s.

"As things were thus, the poor gentleman died and pa.s.sed away from this _misera vita_ or sad life, and Piovano was in deep grief for his loss, and as much for the poor orphans.

"When the note fell due, the manufacturer went to Piovano Arlotto and asked for his money, saying that he only demanded what was justly due to him.

"And after a few days' delay, he paid the man two-thirds of the sum, and ten florins for the time and trouble, and said he would not give a farthing more. Then the dealer begun to dun him, but he evaded every demand. Then the merchant employed a young man, eighteen years of age, who had not his equal in Florence to collect debts. And this youth set to work in earnest to get from the priest the sum of about twenty-eight gold florins, still due from the account.

"In a few days he had attacked Piovano a hundred times with the utmost impudence, in the market, in the public squares, on the streets at home, and in the church, without regard to persons present, at all times, and in every aggravating way, until the priest conceived a mortal hatred of the dun, and turned over in his head many ways to get rid of him.

"At last he went one day to the Abbot of San Miniato or Monte, and said to him: '_Padre reverendo_, I seek your paternal kindness to relieve a very distressing case in which I am concerned. I have a nephew who is possessed by the devil, one into whom an evil spirit has entered, and who has a monomania that I owe him money, and is always crying to me everywhere, 'When are you going to pay me? I want twenty-eight florins.'

'Tis a great pity, for he is a fine young man, and something really ought to be done to cure him. Now I know that the holy relic which you possess, the worthy head of the glorious and gracious San Miniato, has such a virtue, that, if it be once placed on the head of this poor youth, 'twill certainly cure him. Would you so contrive, in any way, to put it on him some time this week?'

"The Abbot answered, 'Bring him when you will.'

"Piovano thanked him and said: 'I will bring him on Sat.u.r.day, but when he shall be here, I pray you be at the gate with seven or eight strong men, that he may not escape; for you know, holy father, that these demoniacs are accustomed to rage when they see relics and hear prayers, and it will be specially so with this poor youth, who is young and vigorous-yea, it may be that 'twill be necessary to give him sundry cuffs and kicks, so terrible is the power of Satan-_lupus esuriens_. Do so, I pray, without fearing to hurt my feelings-nay, it would be a great pleasure to me, so heartily do I desire to see him cured.'

"The Abbot answered, 'Bring him here, my son, and I will see that all is rightly done.'

"Piovano returned, saying to himself:

"'Chi vuol giusta vendetta, In Dio la metta.'

"'Leave vengeance to the Lord, or to his ministers-_videlicet_, the monks of San Miniato. Which I will do.'

"On Friday he went to the merchant who had sold the cloth, and said: 'As for this which I owe you, it is all rubbish. You cheated the man who gave you the note out of half the cloth-you know it, and I can prove it.

However, to avoid further trouble and litigation, I am willing to pay all, but you must allow time for it. _Dura cosa e l'aspettare_-'tis hard to wait, but harder still to have nothing to wait for. The monks of San Miniato owe me for forty cords of wood, which is to be paid for at the end of two years, and then you shall have your money.'

"This sounded like 'for ever and a day' to the creditor, and in a rage he had recourse to his collector, who on Sat.u.r.day morning went to San Miniato. When he arrived, he had to wait till the grand ma.s.s was over, to the great vexation of the young man, and meanwhile eight powerful monks with long staves had grouped themselves about the door, awaiting a little healthy exercise.

"And ma.s.s being over, the dun hastened up to the Abbot, who, taking him by the hand, said: 'Oh, my son, put thy trust in G.o.d and in San Miniato the blessed; pray that he may take this evil conceit from thy head,' and with this much more, till the young man grew impatient and said:

"'Messer Abbot, to-day is Sat.u.r.day, and no time for sermons. I have come to know what you are going to do about this debt of Piovano of twenty-eight florins, and when it will be paid?'

"Then the Abbot, hearing, as he expected, the demand for money, began to exhort and exorcise. And the youth began to abuse the Abbot with all kind of villanies, and finally turned to depart; but the Abbot caught him by the cloak, and there was a fight. Then came the eight monks, who seizing him, chastised him l.u.s.tily, and bound him with cords, and bearing him into the sacristy, sprinkled him with holy water, and incensed him indeed-and then set the holy head of San Miniato on his head-he thinking they were all mad as hatters. Then they exorcised the evil spirits in him-'_Maledicti_!_ excommunicati et rebelles-sitis in paena aeternali nulla requies sit in vo-o-o-bis si statim non eritis obedientes_, _praeceptis me-e-e-e-is_!'-until the youth had to give in, and beg the Abbot's pardon, and being released, fled as for dear life.

"But he met outside Piovano Arlotto, who said to him: 'Thou hast had a dainty drubbing, my son, but there is plenty more where that came from-_non v'e ne fin_, _ne fondo_-there is neither end nor bottom to it.

Now go to thy master, and say that if he goes further in this business he will fare worse than thou hast done.'

"The youth, returning to Florence, told the tale to his employer, and how Piovano Arlotto had declared if they dunned him any more he would do his best to have them drubbed to death. So they dropped the matter-like a hot shot.

"Everybody in Florence roared with laughter for seven days-_sparsa la piacevolezza per Firenze_, _vi fu che ridere per setti giorni_-that is to say, everybody laughed except one clothmaker and his collector, and if they smiled, 'twas sour and bitterly-the smile which does not rise above the throat-the merriment like German mourning grim. And as for the young man, he had to leave Florence, for all of whom he would collect money told him to go to-the monks of San Miniato!"

There was a curious custom, from which came a proverb, in reference to this monastery, which is thus narrated in that singular work, _La Zucca del Doni Fiorentino_ ("The Pumpkin of Doni the Florentine"):

"There is a saying, _E non terrebbe un cocomere all'erta_-He could not catch a cuc.u.mber if thrown to him. Well, ye must know, my masters and gallant signors, that our Florentine youth in the season of cuc.u.mbers go to San Miniato, where there is a steep declivity, and when there, those who are above toss or roll them down to those below, while those below throw them up to those above, just as people play at toss-and-pitching oranges with girls at windows. So they keep it up, and it is considered a great shame and sign of feebleness (_dapocaggine_) not to be able to catch; and so in declining the company of a duffer one says: 'I'll have nothing to do with him-he isn't able to catch a cuc.u.mber.'

"It is one of the popular legends of this place that a certain painter named Gallo di San Miniato was a terribly severe critic of the works of others, but was very considerate as regarded his own.

And having this cast at him one day, and being asked how it was, he frankly replied: 'I have but two eyes wherewith to see my own pictures, but I look at those of others with the hundred of Argus.'"

And indeed, as I record this, I cannot but think of a certain famous critic who is so vain and captious that one must needs say that his head, like a b.u.t.terfly's, is all full of little _i's_.

"And this tale of two optics reminds me of the story of Messer Gismondo della Stufa, a Florentine of Miniato, who once said to some friends: 'If I had devoted myself to letters, I should have been twice as learned as others, and yet ye cannot tell why.' Then some guessed it would have been due to a good memory, while others suggested genius, but Messer Gismondo said: 'You are not there yet, my children; it is because I am so confoundedly cross-eyed that I could have read in two books at once.'"

In the first legend which I narrated, the fall of the tower is attributed to witchcraft or evil spirits. In the very ancient frescoes of San Miniato there is one in which the devil causes a wall or tower to fall down and crush a young monk. What confirms the legend, or its antiquity, is that the original bell-tower of San Miniato actually fell down in 1499. The other then built was saved from a similar fate by the genius of Michael Angelo Buonarotti, who built a bank of earth to support it.

"_Haec fabula_ of the head of San Miniato," wrote the immortal Flaxius on the proof, "teaches that he who would get round a priest in small trickery must arise uncommonly early-nay, in most cases 'twould be as well not to go to bed at all-especially when dunning is 'on the tap.'

Concerning which word _dun_ it is erroneously believed in England to have been derived from the name of a certain Joseph Dunn, who was an indefatigable collecting bailiff. But in very truth 'tis from the Italian _donare_, to give oneself up to anything with ardour-to stick to it; in accordance with which, _donar guanto_, or to give the glove, means to promise to pay or give security. And if any philologist differs from me in opinion as to this, why then-_let_ him diff! Which magnanimously sounding conclusion, when translated according to the spirit of most who utter it, generally means:

"Let him be maledict, excommunicate, and d.a.m.nated _ad inferos-in saecula saeculorum_!-twice over!"

THE FRIAR'S HEAD OF SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE-THE LADY WHO CONFESSED FOR EVERYBODY-HOLY RELICS

"He who speaks from a window or a pulpit, or the top of a good name or any high place, should speak wisely, if he speak at all, unto those who pa.s.s."

The Church of Santa Maria Maggiore "remounts," as the Italians say, or can be traced back to 700 A.D., but it was enlarged and renewed by the architect Bueno in the twelfth century, and according to Pitre it was the germ of a new style of architecture which we find much refined (_ringentilata_) in Santa Maria del Fiore. "There were, regarding its bell-tower, which no longer exists, many tales and curious anecdotes, which might form a part of a fine collection of local legends." There is still to-day on the wall above the little side-door facing the Via de'

Conti, a much worn head of stone, coming out of a round cornice, which is in all probability the one referred to in the following legend:

"There was once a condemned criminal being carried along to execution, and on the way pa.s.sed before the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore. One of the friars put his head out of a little round window, which was just large enough for it to pa.s.s through, and this was over the entrance on the lesser side of the church, facing the Via de' Conti. As the condemned pa.s.sed by the friar said:

"'Date gli da bere, 'un morira mai.'

"'Give him a drink and he never will die.'

"To which the condemned replied:

"'E la testa di cost tu 'un la levrai'.

"'And thy head shall stick where it is for aye.'

"And so it came to pa.s.s that they could not get the head of the friar back through the hole, so there he died. And some say that after they got the body out they carried his likeness in stone and put it there in the little round window, in remembrance of the event, while others think that it is the friar himself turned to stone-_chi sa_?"

The conception of a stone head having been that of a person petrified for punishment is of the kind which would spring up anywhere, quite independently of tradition or borrowing; hence it is found the world over. That ideas of the kind may be common, yet not in common, nor yet uncommon, is shown by the resemblance of the remark of the friar:

"Give him a drink and he never will die,"-

which was as much as to say that inebriation would cause him to forget his execution-to a verse of a song in "Jack Sheppard":

"For nothing so calms, Our dolorous qualms, And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles, So well as a drink from the bowl of Saint Giles."

There is a merrier tale, however, of Santa Maria Maggiore, and one which is certainly far more likely to have occurred than this of the petrified _pater_. For it is told in the ancient _Facetiae_ that a certain Florentine n.o.bleman, who was a jolly and reckless cavalier, had a wife who, for all her beauty, was _bisbetica e cattiva_, capricious and spiteful, malicious and mischievous, a daughter of the devil, if there ever was one, who, like all those of her kind, was very devout, and went every day to confession in Santa Maria Maggiore, where she confessed not only her own sins, but also those of all her neighbours. And as she dwelt with vast eloquence on the great wickedness of her husband-having a tongue which would serve to sweep out an oven, or even a worse place {150}-the priest one day urged the husband to come to confession, thinking that it might lead to more harmony between the married couple.