The Food Taster

by Peter Elbling

  There rose then still one more odor. One which had lain buried beneath the others but now snaked its way out of the bile of my stomach and up into my throat. It was my fear. My betrayal. My cowardice.

  I sat there suffocating while all around me the guests celebrated. I prayed to God and He spoke to me, saying, 'I help those who help themselves.' No sooner had I heard those words than I knew what I had to do. I turned to Miranda, but she was not at the table.

  'She left the hall,' Duke Orsino said.

  Miranda was in the courtyard standing on the ledge where the bodies are thrown down the mountain. In the moonlight she looked so like my mother that at first I thought it was her ghost. 'Miranda!' I called.

  She did not answer.

  'Miranda, it is not over yet.'

  She looked down the mountain. 'Not quite. But soon.'

  'Where there is life, there is hope.'

  She turned to me. 'My champions have all been beaten.'

  'I am your champion.'

  'You?' she sneered.

  'We have been in difficult times before. Miranda, I promised your mother I would always take care of you.'

  'Please . . .'

  'I have a plan. As soon as you marry Federico, you must complain of an ache in your stomach.' I moved closer as I was talking. 'You must tell Federico that I have a potion that will cure it.' I moved closer still. 'Then you will come to my room and drink a potion I have prepared.'

  "What will it do?'

  'You know I have been experimenting with potions—'

  'What will it do?' she repeated angrily.

  'It will make you appear as if you are dead.' I did not have such a potion but I could not tell her that.

  'How will that help?'

  'Like this.' And grasping her hand, I pulled her off the ledge.

  'You tricked me,' she hissed. She spat in my face and tried to scratch me. 'Oh, why will you not let me die!' she wailed.

  'Because I am your father and you will do whatever I tell you!' I led her back to the hall. I had to do that. I could not stop my mother from killing herself, but I would die before I let Miranda do the same.

  Soon I have to taste Federico's breakfast and prepare for mass. Today is the day Miranda will be married and I will enjoy food again. I must do that at least once, otherwise this has all been for nothing.

  The last day — morning.

  Tommaso was fast asleep so I put my knife to his fallo and my hand over his mouth and when he woke I whispered, 'Lie still or by God you will die here and now.' Then I said, 'Do you still love Miranda?'

  His eyes flitted from side to side as if he was hoping to wake one of the other boys sleeping in the room.

  "Will you marry her and take care of her for the rest of your life? Answer me!'

  One of the boys raised his head, grunted and went back to sleep.

  'Answer me!' Tommaso nodded. 'Then get up. We have little time.'

  Outside the room I said, 'You must make three cookies. One of Miranda, one of the duke, and one of me. The figures must be good but not great, for it must be as if I made them. Miranda's will be only marzipan and sugar, but in the duke's you must mix in the contents of this bag.' I held it up. 'Place the figures on the turret of the cake. This is the only way you and Miranda will be free.'

  He frowned angrily. 'But they will know that I--'

  'That is why they must be clumsy. Then everyone will believe me when I say I made them.'

  Questions dashed to the front of his mouth only to be overtaken by more pressing ones.

  'Tommaso, I have inflicted great wrongs on you and Miranda. Allow me to heal them. I have but a few hours.'

  He was so confused that it was easy to lead him to the kitchen. There I persuaded him to make three small piles of dough and flavored them with sugar and marzipan. I poured the contents of my bag into two of the piles. 'Make this one look like Federico and the other look like me.'

  Tommaso's head jerked up. 'But -'

  'Giovanni is going to kill me anyway for what happened to his sister and mother. That is why he is here.'

  He stared at me in disbelief. 'Does Miranda know?'

  'Of course,' I lied. He had stopped working and I had to jog his arm. 'Hurry!'

  'I will put less in yours.'

  'No, Tommaso. You will put more in mine.'

  He stopped.

  'Do what I say! I have my reasons.'

  He rubbed the poisons into the dough and began to shape the figures. In no time they took on the forms of Federico, Miranda, and myself. 'Do not make them perfect,' I warned him.

  He placed them on the fire. There were voices in the hallway. 'Go,' he said. 'I will finish them.'

  'You will take care of Miranda?'

  "With my life. You have my word.' We grasped arms and kissed one another on the cheek.

  I prayed all day though I realize that my praying has made little difference to what has followed. That is not to say that I doubt God's existence. When I look out of my window and see the valley in springtime, when I see Miranda's face when she sleeps, when I close my eyes and imagine my Helene, I know that God exists. I believe He watches me. Not over me. But watches me. He leaves omens for me. For instance, I thought that I had overcome so many obstacles to Miranda's happiness when the biggest obstacle was myself. I am grateful to Him for allowing me to understand this.

  Now I am going to the wedding feast. I am wearing a white silk shirt, a doublet of blue velvet trimmed with gold brocade puffed at the wrists, and my velvet hat with a jeweled brooch in its center. A medallion of pure gold, a gift Cecchi gave me, hangs around my neck. I have silver rings on three of my fingers. When I look in the mirror I see a courtier who would be at home in the palazzos of Firenze or Venezia. A man who was once afraid of Death, but is no longer, for in embracing Death he has given purpose to his life.

  Night.

  I will try to complete this in the time I have left to live. Tonight, I was seated at the table between Miranda and Princess Marguerite of Rimini. I laughed and joked with everyone and even ate with a silver fork. Septivus could not finish Federico's poem, so I offered him the one I had written for Helene. I am glad to say everyone loved it.

  The trumpets sounded -- I am tired of trumpets, they are shrill and noisy and I am glad I will never have to hear them anymore. The servants marched in carrying platters of food. O my soul! Has it truly been five years since I was in that line? On each platter sat a swan wearing a golden crown, its eyes shining brightly, its wings spread out in flight, its beak casting out fiery sparks. Luigi placed the largest platter in front of me! Me! Ugo the food taster! He raised the long fork.

  'Where is your taster?' Federico asked me.

  I told him I did not want one.

  'You are not going to use a taster?' He turned to the guests. 'I told him he could have his own taster. Why do you not want one?'

  I stood up. Septivus had given a speech, so had Giovanni, the bishop and nobles from Urbino and Spoleto, so why not I? Everyone quieted down. I cleared my throat. 'Magnificent Prince,' I began. 'On this day, Christ in His Glory, the Holy Mother, and God Himself have all blessed Corsoli and all who dwell within her gates. In such a sacred house, the spirits will not allow anyone to harbor thoughts or deeds against you, Miranda, or anyone else.' Then I sat down.

  'Amen,' the bishop said, and everyone echoed his blessing.

  Federico leaned across Miranda, he was holding her hand as if she might escape, and whispered to me, 'You are still going to taste my food though?'

  'Your Excellency,' I said looking into his eyes, 'I am still your taster.'

  Luigi stuck the fork into the swan, raised it to the height of his chest, cut six slices off its breast, and poured the juices over it. I speared a piece with my fork and lifted it to my mouth. The odor made me dizzy. Luigi had used just the right amount of fennel. I opened my mouth and placed it on my tongue. It was warm, rich, tender.

  'Ugo is weeping,' Federico shouted, and the hall rocked with laughter
.

  'They are tears of joy,' Cecchi said.

  'It is not only free of all poison,' I declared, 'but it is delicious!'

  'Now you must eat!' Federico said.

  The evening I had been waiting for was here at last. I began with the spit-roasted quails. They were heavenly. The skylarks and pheasants were even better. The kid cooked in garlic sauce, superb. I ran out of words of praise before the first course had ended. There were also eggplants, capons in lemon sauce, platters of pasta, and sausages browned to perfection. The salted pork was succulent, if a little salty, but the fried broad beans were crisp as spring frost. I ate an entire plateful of calves' brains and had not one, but two helpings of Turkish rice with almonds.

  I chewed over every bite, savoring every morsel, making up for all the meals I had missed.

  'He is eating as if it was his last meal,' Bernardo grumbled. Cecchi looked at me and raised his glass in my honor. I drank many goblets of wine and even smiled at Cardinal Giovanni, addressing several remarks to him. Miranda flashed her eyes and adjusted her dress so that more of her breasts showed.

  I seized a moment when Federico was not looking at her and, squeezing her arm, whispered that although she hated me I loved her more than life itself. 'If I could suffer a thousand deaths in your place, I would do so. I beg you, do not judge me. It is not over yet.' She pulled away as more trumpets announced the wedding cake — Tommaso's sugar and marzipan extravaganza.

  It was so large that two servants had to carry it on a tray. They held it aloft and walked around the hall as everyone marveled at how brilliantly Tommaso had copied the palazzo. Then they placed it in front of Federico. I prayed Tommaso had done as I asked and I was not disappointed. On the turret were the three figures of Miranda, Duke Federico, and myself.

  'It is better than anything Bramante ever built,' Federico said. The windows and columns were made out of cheeses, sweets, and nuts, the marble courtyard out of pieces of glazed orange and lemon.

  'But what are these figures?' Marguerite of Rimini asked.

  'Your Excellency.' I stood up again. Everyone quieted again to listen to me. 'I prepared these three figures myself. They are of Your Honor, Miranda, and myself.

  'You are becoming a cook now?' Federico said, as everyone laughed.

  'Why not? Who knows more about food than me?'

  I could see Miranda looking at me, trying to shake off the effects of the wine.

  'Why did you make them?' Federico said, his eyes narrowing.

  I had spent so much time planning this that I had not thought that Federico would question me, but once again God put the words into my mouth.

  'My Lord, you have everything a duke could wish for. The valley of Corsoli is known for its beauty. Your city is prosperous and wealthy. Your reputation as a fearless condottiero is well known. As a lord you are admired, feared, and loved. You have distinguished friends and loyal citizens. Your walls are decorated with the finest works of art, your stables blessed with magnificent horses. Now you have the love of my daughter, the most beautiful woman in all of Italy. You do me the greatest honor of my life by allowing my family to join yours. Since there is nothing I can give you which can compare to all that I have mentioned, these cookies are simple tokens of the sweetness and the undying love which will now exist between our two families.'

  'He should be an orator,' Septivus announced. The guests applauded loudly. Federico said nothing. He was thinking, as I knew he would, of the cookies of the Day of the Dead.

  'Therefore,' I went on, 'let us partake of this symbol and so be united forever.'

  Again the guests applauded loudly. I reached for the three cookies and gave Miranda hers, Federico his, and I took mine. The hall was silent, waiting to see what Federico would do. He looked at Tommaso. I feared Tommaso would say something, but for the first time in his life, he remained silent. Ah, I thought, he has grown up at last. Then Federico turned to me and said, 'Since I am taking over the responsibility of Miranda's protection, would it not be right for me to eat your cookie and for you to eat mine?'

  I acted as if I was surprised, but I replied cheerfully, 'If the duke wishes, he can exchange his cookie with mine or Miranda's.'

  Federico looked at Miranda, and then at the cookie in her hand. I prayed I was right and that he loved her as much as I thought he did.

  Patting her hand gently, Federico turned to me and said, 'No, I will exchange my cookie with yours.'

  'Then let it be so,' I said. I gave him my cookie and took his. 'Now let us eat.' I bit down hard into my cookie to show everyone how much I enjoyed it. Miranda, thinking perhaps that I had poisoned hers, ate it greedily. Federico did the same.

  Ah, now comes the fire. I did not think the poisons would take effect so quickly. I must hurry.

  After the cookies and the cake were eaten, the bishop led Federico and Miranda through the palazzo to his bedchamber. The guests walked behind singing hymns of praise. Men sighed and women wept. At Federico's bedchamber, the bishop said a prayer. I kissed Miranda and placed her hand into Federico's. They went inside and closed the door.

  Oh, but it hurts. I was blind but now the veil is lifted, the mist disappears. Septivus, you were right. Food together with the spirit creates a hunger only God can satisfy.

  O God! But this is quick! Oh, my stomach! Claws of fire. The griffin's beak rips my flesh. It spreads through my bowels like a flaming sword.

  Cardinal Giovanni, you think I am a coward for taking my own life, but my mother was not a coward.

  O God! It comes again. Oh, . . . Oh, pota! I have shit myself! Oh, Helene. My darling, Helene, love of my life. We will not meet in this world, but I will wait for you.

  My door is open, I must hear Federico fall! DEATH CANNOT TAKE ME FIRST.

  My hands itch. My face bleeds.

  Oh, fire! Helene, forgive me.

  O my God,

  Purify

  Your servant.

  Arraggio, August 1534

  I did not die. Cecchi once called me 'Il miracolo vivente' and now I

  deserve the name. Truly it is a miracle that I am alive. I did not plan to

  live. Indeed, I was prepared to die, but God in His wisdom has spared

  me.

  I did not hear what happened in the duke's chamber because after he closed the door I returned to my room. Cecchi told me that soon after the door closed, the guests, who were waiting outside for Federico to declare that he had taken Miranda's virginity, heard strange noises. At first, they thought it was the duke making love, but Miranda came running out crying that the duke was vomiting and complaining of burning in his throat and palpitations round his heart.

  The courtiers, Cardinal Giovanni, and the bishop immediately went inside. Federico was crying, screaming, throwing himself around the room, smashing into the walls and furniture as though possessed by a thousand demons. Blood and vomit spilled from his mouth. He was shitting blood and feces. He tried to stab himself but his hands kept dropping the dagger. Teeth fell from his mouth. Howling like a madman, he rolled on the bed and tried to strangle himself. The courtiers threw themselves on top of him and after much fighting he sank to the floor, clutching Miranda to him. She screamed but he would not let go. He tried to bite her, but could not close his mouth. Afraid that he might squeeze her to death and distressed at seeing the duke in such agony, Cardinal Giovanni thrust his sword through the duke's heart to end his suffering. Federico shuddered, heaved like a huge dying whale, and then was still. Nero lay beside him, licking his face. They were forced to cut Federico's fingers off to release Miranda.

  Then they came running to my room. By this time I was also screaming, bleeding, and shitting. I could only see shapes but I remember Cardinal Giovanni waving his bloody sword. Miranda knelt down and picked up my head in her hands. There was confusion and fear in her eyes. She was remembering the cookies of the Day of the Dead, the breakfast at Carnevale, the stories I had told her of Onionface. She wanted to embrace me, but I could not let her do tha
t, for Giovanni was waiting to kill me and I could not let anyone think that she was part of the plan, so I spat in her face.

  She jerked away and dropped my head to the ground. Turning to Giovanni, she said, 'No, Cardinal Giovanni. Do not kill him. Let him suffer! Let him suffer a thousand deaths for the crimes he has committed this day.'

  Oh, bless her. Bless her! All the actors in Padua should take lessons from her! Cardinal Giovanni hesitated, but there was no question that I was poisoned, and in great pain. He put his sword away and agreed that I deserved the slowest of deaths. So did the courtiers. By this time I no longer knew what was going on. All I know is that they must have left the room because someone raised my head, I was told later it was Piero, and poured olive oil down my throat. I threw up, retching everything up that I had ever eaten, but it did no good. The poison was in me. I fell violently ill and was expected to die.

  All of the guests, including Giovanni, left the palazzo as soon as it was light. Federico was buried the day after. Only a few courtiers attended his funeral. The city took a holiday. I was too ill to know any of this and lay like a dead person. Sometimes I slept and sometimes I was awake. It made no difference. Although I could hear people I could not speak or move any part of my body, nor could I see them. I was sure I was in purgatory and that God had not yet decided whether I should go to heaven or hell.

  Tommaso was the soul of kindness, for every day he brought fresh cakes for me in case I should wake. On the other hand, Bernardo said my illness was a bad omen and I should be buried immediately even though I was not yet dead! Fortunately, Cecchi insisted on waiting.

  Miranda spent hours by my bedside praying and singing. She imitated her birds and animals, put her arms around me, and whispered she loved me. I wanted to cry out, but could not. I tried to move my fingers the width of a fly. I could not and wept from exhaustion. Luckily, Miranda saw my tears and told the others.

  One morning several weeks later, I awoke hungrier than I had ever been in my life. Piero said I had survived because of all the poisons I had taken for so many months. My recovery was cause for celebration, but in the middle of the festivities, Cecchi said that as soon as I was strong enough it would be best for Miranda, Tommaso, and me to leave before Giovanni found out that I had recovered. Bernardo had been seen riding out of the city and it was known he intended to tell him.