Candle in the Attic Window(57)
Niccolò was not listening, his attention focused on Parisina cowering in the middle of her bed. He screamed, “You faithless bitch! What did you want that I did not give you? Was it too much to ask that you be faithful to your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Niccolò ....”
“No, don’t speak. No more lies from you, either. You will watch your paramour separated from his head before also paying the same price for your betrayal.”
Turning his back on her imploring eyes, the Marquis buried his face in his hands. “Guards, watch over this chamber. Let her prepare to meet a vengeful God. Make certain she has no opportunity to speak to the bastard before he goes to his Maker.”
The Chariot
Alas, we are undone; Zoesi has ruined us. He will have his cards. I caressed them and held them in my hands for the last time; I cursed him with them.
“My treasure, may you bring him no joy – only pain. May his days be empty and alone, his nights filled with demon-terrors, and may he end his life forgotten, a rotting corpse plucked apart by scavengers.”
I had been a fool, blinded by first love. How could I have been so stupid to believe that our passion would remain undiscovered? If I could so easily read the truth of Alicia, why then should I expect others not to see the joy that lit up my face whenever Ugo approached?
It would be possible to say ... to excuse our behaviour as the fruit of a lonely exile in Codigoro, but I am no hypocrite. From the moment Niccolò announced his intention to send the boy with us, I knew what would happen. My pretty cards foretold it.
“I am entrusting my beloved son and heir to your safekeeping,” he said. “You are his stepmother; I know you will look after him as one of your own.”
Dear God, Niccolò, were you blind or too puffed up with vanity to see that he and I are the same age? And now, it is too late. The Wheel has turned and we must accept our fate. My sorry part will be to watch my lover lose his head for loving me.
The Lightning-Struck Tower
Dressed in white, Parisina stood in the loggia overlooking the courtyard, waiting her turn at the block. I, Zoesi, author of this sorry tragedy, waited in the shadows. Tearless, she watched Ugo’s execution and moved down the steps to take her place. As she reached the bottom step, Niccolò appeared in the same archway.
“Parisina, attend me.”
“My Lord.” The proud girl bowed her head, waiting.
“Madonna, although you have betrayed me and our marriage vows, you are still my wife.” the Marquis paused.
Parisina’s eyes never left the ground. She spoke not a word.
Unsure now, the Marquis struggled to continue. “I realize that I have ... not always been exactly fair to you.”
“And so ...?”
“I offer you a chance to save your own life. If you will repudiate your vile affair, confess your sin before Almighty God, and retire for the remainder of your life behind the walls of the Poor Clare’s, I will allow you to live.”
“My Lord, I cannot live a lie, nor do I wish to live without my beloved. I go to my death with joy, for in that sweet place beyond life’s sorrows, I know I shall be reunited with him.”
“Then die. Go with your lover to Hell!” The Marquis turned and stalked away, shaking and trembling.
So it was done. Afterward, the Marquis arranged for the bodies, wrapped in white shrouds, to be conveyed to the cemetery of San Francesco and there buried beside the Campanile.
Standing there in the gloom, I watched Parisina’s head separate from her body and land with a soft plop in the waiting basket. Certain that she was well and truly dispatched, I dashed to her chamber – my only thought to reclaim the miraculous tarocchi that had so claimed my heart.
To my unbelieving eyes and hands, the deck was dead – dead as its mistress! It would not wake for me. I screamed and cried, pleaded and begged. My sorrow was so intense it brought the guards at a run. Finding me beside myself, raving in my dead mistress’ chamber, they dragged me before the Marquis, who demanded an explanation. I could only gibber and plead.
“Bring her back, please ... Bring back my beloved, my only love .....”
The Marquis, hearing my cries, became convinced that I, too, had been his wife’s lover. He ordered me locked in this stinking cellar, my only companion these now-mute, useless pieces of paper. How ugly they seem to me now.
He further ordered the banishment – the permanent banishment – of my now-insane niece Alicia, who had played such a sorry role in all of this. After being escorted from the palace, she would be strangled, her corpse taken by boat downriver and released into the Po Delta. The fish and creatures of those sodden waters would make a proper feast of her body and her madness.
She was allowed to visit me just before she left. Her eyes glittered as she babbled and giggled, while relating how Parisina had used the miraculous cards to curse me.
I was not surprised to hear this. I know I shall soon be dragged to my death. I can neither eat nor drink nor sleep, but pass the wretched hours screaming and moaning for the loss of my beloved tarocchi. I daily beg to be dispatched from this earthly torment. Soon, if God will have mercy on me, the Marquis will no longer be able to tolerate my existence in this world and I, too, shall find a home in the stinking waters of the Po. Perhaps, in death, I shall be allowed to return to the dreaming cities. I pray, to whatever god resides there, that it shall be so.