by George Eliot
CHAPTER TWO.
BREAKFAST FOR LOVE.
After Bratti had joined the knot of talkers, the young stranger,hopeless of learning what was the cause of the general agitation, andnot much caring to know what was probably of little interest to any butborn Florentines, soon became tired of waiting for Bratti's escort; andchose to stroll round the piazza, looking out for some vendor ofeatables who might happen to have less than the average curiosity aboutpublic news. But as if at the suggestion of a sudden thought, he thrusthis hand into a purse or wallet that hung at his waist, and explored itagain and again with a look of frustration.
"Not an obolus, by Jupiter!" he murmured, in a language which was notTuscan or even Italian. "I thought I had one poor piece left. I mustget my breakfast for love, then!"
He had not gone many steps farther before it seemed likely that he hadfound a quarter of the market where that medium of exchange might not berejected.
In a corner, away from any group of talkers, two mules were standing,well adorned with red tassels and collars. One of them carried woodenmilk-vessels, the other a pair of panniers filled with herbs and salads.Resting her elbow on the neck of the mule that carried the milk, thereleaned a young girl, apparently not more than sixteen, with a red hoodsurrounding her face, which was all the more baby-like in its prettinessfrom the entire concealment of her hair. The poor child, perhaps, wasweary after her labour in the morning twilight in preparation for herwalk to market from some castello three or four miles off, for sheseemed to have gone to sleep in that half-standing, half-leaningposture. Nevertheless, our stranger had no compunction in awaking her;but the means he chose were so gentle, that it seemed to the damsel inher dream as if a little sprig of thyme had touched her lips while shewas stooping to gather the herbs. The dream was broken, however, forshe opened her blue baby-eyes, and started up with astonishment andconfusion to see the young stranger standing close before her. Sheheard him speaking to her in a voice which seemed so strange and soft,that even if she had been more collected she would have taken it forgranted that he said something hopelessly unintelligible to her, and herfirst movement was to turn her head a little away, and lift up a cornerof her green serge mantle as a screen. He repeated his words--
"Forgive me, pretty one, for awaking you. I'm dying with hunger, andthe scent of milk makes breakfast seem more desirable than ever."
He had chosen the words "_muoio di fame_" because he knew they would befamiliar to her ears; and he had uttered them playfully, with theintonation of a mendicant. This time he was understood; the corner ofthe mantle was dropped, and in a few moments a large cup of fragrantmilk was held out to him. He paid no further compliments before raisingit to his lips, and while he was drinking, the little maiden foundcourage to look up at the long dark curls of this singular-voicedstranger, who had asked for food in the tones of a beggar, but who,though his clothes were much damaged, was unlike any beggar she had everseen.
While this process of survey was going on, there was another current offeeling that carried her hand into a bag which hung by the side of themule, and when the stranger set down his cup, he saw a large piece ofbread held out towards him, and caught a glance of the blue eyes thatseemed intended as an encouragement to him to take this additional gift.
"But perhaps that is your own breakfast," he said. "No, I have hadenough without payment. A thousand thanks, my gentle one."
There was no rejoinder in words; but the piece of bread was pushed alittle nearer to him, as if in impatience at his refusal; and as thelong dark eyes of the stranger rested on the baby-face, it seemed to begathering more and more courage to look up and meet them.
"Ah, then, if I must take the bread," he said, laying his hand on it, "Ishall get bolder still, and beg for another kiss to make the breadsweeter."
His speech was getting wonderfully intelligible in spite of the strangevoice, which had at first almost seemed a thing to make her crossherself. She blushed deeply, and lifted up a corner of her mantle toher mouth again. But just as the too presumptuous stranger was leaningforward, and had his fingers on the arm that held up the screeningmantle, he was startled by a harsh voice close upon his ear.
"Who are _you_--with a murrain to you? No honest buyer, I'll warrant,but a hanger-on of the dicers--or something worse. Go! dance off, andfind fitter company, or I'll give you a tune to a little quicker timethan you'll like."
The young stranger drew back and looked at the speaker with a glanceprovokingly free from alarm and deprecation, and his slight expressionof saucy amusement broke into a broad beaming smile as he surveyed thefigure of his threatenor. She was a stout but brawny woman, with aman's jerkin slipped over her green serge gamurra or gown, and thepeaked hood of some departed mantle fastened round her sunburnt face,which, under all its coarseness and premature wrinkles, showed ahalf-sad, half-ludicrous maternal resemblance to the tender baby-face ofthe little maiden--the sort of resemblance which often seems a morecroaking, shudder-creating prophecy than that of the death's-head.
There was something irresistibly propitiating in that bright youngsmile, but Monna Ghita was not a woman to betray any weakness, and shewent on speaking, apparently with heightened exasperation.
"Yes, yes, you can grin as well as other monkeys in cap and jerkin.You're a minstrel or a mountebank, I'll be sworn; you look for all theworld as silly as a tumbler when he's been upside down and has got onhis heels again. And what fool's tricks hast thou been after, Tessa?"she added, turning to her daughter, whose frightened face was moreinviting to abuse. "Giving away the milk and victuals, it seems; ay,ay, thou'dst carry water in thy ears for any idle vagabond that didn'tlike to stoop for it, thou silly staring rabbit! Turn thy back, andlift the herbs out of the panniers, else I'll make thee say a few Aveswithout counting."
"Nay, Madonna," said the stranger, with a pleading smile, "don't beangry with your pretty Tessa for taking pity on a hungry traveller, whofound himself unexpectedly without a quattrino. Your handsome facelooks so well when it frowns, that I long to see it illuminated by asmile."
"_Va via_! I know what paste you are made of. You may tickle me withthat straw a good long while before I shall laugh, I can tell you. Getalong, with a bad Easter! else I'll make a beauty-spot or two on thatface of yours that shall spoil your kissing on this side Advent."
As Monna Ghita lifted her formidable talons by way of complying with thefirst and last requisite of eloquence, Bratti, who had come up a minuteor two before, had been saying to his companion, "What think you of thispretty parrot, Nello? Doesn't his tongue smack of Venice?"
"Nay, Bratti," said the barber in an undertone, "thy wisdom has much ofthe ass in it, as I told thee just now; especially about the ears. Thisstranger is a Greek, else I'm not the barber who has had the sole andexclusive shaving of the excellent Demetrio, and drawn more than onesorry tooth from his learned jaw. And this youth might be taken to havecome straight from Olympus--at least when he has had a touch of myrazor."
"_Orsu_! Monna Ghita!" continued Nello, not sorry to see some sport;"what has happened to cause such a thunderstorm? Has this youngstranger been misbehaving himself?"
"By San Giovanni!" said the cautious Bratti, who had not shaken off hisoriginal suspicions concerning the shabbily-clad possessor of jewels,"he did right to run away from _me_, if he meant to get into mischief.I can swear that I found him under the Loggia de' Cerchi, with a ring onhis finger such as I've seen worn by Bernardo Rucellai himself. Notanother rusty nail's worth do I know about him."
"The fact is," said Nello, eyeing the stranger good-humouredly, "this_bello giovane_ has been a little too presumptuous in admiring thecharms of Monna Ghita, and has attempted to kiss her while herdaughter's back is turned; for I observe that the pretty Tessa is toobusy to look this way at present. Was it not so, Messer?" Nelloconcluded, in a tone of courtesy.
"You have divined the offence like a soothsayer," said the stranger,laughingly. "Only that I had not the good fortune to find Monna G
hitahere at first. I begged a cup of milk from her daughter, and hadaccepted this gift of bread, for which I was making a humble offering ofgratitude, before I had the higher pleasure of being face to face withthese riper charms which I was perhaps too bold in admiring."
"_Va, va_! be off, every one of you, and stay in purgatory till I pay toget you out, will you?" said Monna Ghita, fiercely, elbowing Nello, andleading forward her mule so as to compel the stranger to jump aside."Tessa, thou simpleton, bring forward thy mule a bit: the cart will beupon us."
As Tessa turned to take the mule's bridle, she cast one timid glance atthe stranger, who was now moving with Nello out of the way of anapproaching market-cart; and the glance was just long enough to seizethe beckoning movement of his hand, which indicated that he had beenwatching for this opportunity of an adieu.
"_Ebbene_," said Bratti, raising his voice to speak across the cart; "Ileave you with Nello, young man, for there's no pushing my bag andbasket any farther, and I have business at home. But you'll rememberour bargain, because if you found Tessa without me, it was not my fault.Nello will show you my shop in the Ferravecchi, and I'll not turn myback on you."
"A thousand thanks, friend!" said the stranger, laughing, and thenturned away with Nello up the narrow street which led most directly tothe Piazza del Duomo.
