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Updated: May 9, 2025
My heart thudded violently in that moment, as I looked into that pale face of sorrow. Then Fra Gervasio began to speak very gently and softly. "Your son, Madonna, has been lured into sin by a wanton woman," he began, and there she interrupted him with a sudden and very piteous cry. "Not that! Ah, not that!" she exclaimed, putting out hands gropingly before her.
Words that left the conviction clear upon my mind that the fulfilment of her vow was the only thing concerning me that mattered. To the price that later might be paid for it I cannot think that she ever gave a single thought. Tears there were too in the eyes of Fra Gervasio. My mother had suffered me to do no more than kiss her hand as was my custom.
"I must see this friar," she announced, and never in all my life had I beheld in her such a display of emotion. "In the morning, then," said Fra Gervasio. "It is after sunset," he explained. "They have retired, and their rule..." He left the sentence unfinished, but he had said enough to be understood by her. She sank back to her chair, folded her hands in her lap and fell into meditation.
All were dishevelled, unkempt, ragged, dirty, and, doubtless, verminous. Most were greedy and wolfish as they thrust one another aside to reach Fra Gervasio, as if they feared that the supply of alms and food should be exhausted ere their turn arrived.
I was told by Fra Gervasio that on my account was she in retreat, praying for light and guidance in the thing that must be determined concerning me. I withdrew early to my little bedroom overlooking the gardens, a room that had more the air of a monastic cell than a bedchamber fitting the estate of the Lord of Mondolfo.
Suddenly, like a manna to my starving soul, came the memory of the last talk I had with Fra Gervasio and the solemn warning he had given me. That memory inspired me rightly. To-morrow despite Messer Fifanti's orders I would take horse and ride to Mondolfo, there to confess myself to Fra Gervasio and to be guided by his counsel. My mother's vows concerning me I saw in their true light.
He was very tall, so that he was forced to stoop to avoid the lintel of the low door as tall as Gervasio or myself and the tanned face was bearded by a heavy brown beard in which a few strands of grey were showing. Across his face there ran the hideous livid scar of a blow that must have crushed the bridge of his nose.
But whether this at San Gervasio is the actual fountain hymned by Horace ah, that is quite another affair! Few poets, to be sure, have clung more tenaciously to the memories of their childhood than did he and Virgil. And yet, the whole scene may be a figment of his imagination the very word Bandusia may have been coined by him. Who can tell? Then there is the Digentia hypothesis.
At Gonzaga's invitation, very gladly I there and then swore fealty to the Emperor upon his hands, and then, with Bianca and Gervasio, I made my way through the cheering crowd and came out into the sunshine, where my lances, who had already heard the news, set up a great shout at sight of me. Thus we crossed the square, and went to the Duomo, to render thanks.
The men-at-arms fell into step, one on either side of me, and so we passed out into the courtyard, where Cosimo's other men were waiting, and where was gathered the entire family of the castle a gaping, rather frightened little crowd. They brought forth a mule for me, and I mounted. Then suddenly there was Fra Gervasio at my side again. "I, too, am going hence," he said.
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