CHAPTER 1

928 Words
CHAPTER 1 Bernardino, on the threshold of his print shop, which overlooked Via delle Botteghe, at the arch of the ancient Domus Verronum, watched the wedding procession with great satisfaction. At last, after many obstacles and ups and downs, Countess Lucia Baldeschi, on a radiant day in late summer 1523, would join Andrea De’ Franciolini in marriage. In fact, to be precise, with Marquis Franciolino De’ Franciolini, Lord of the Alto Montefeltro and Captain of Arms of the Royal City of Jesi. The procession itself was preceded by drum rolls and trumpet blasts, the exhibition of flag-wavers, the evolutions of the elegant birds of prey launched by skilled falconers, and the parade of the noble families of the various districts of the city, each identified by its banner and the banner of the district to which they belong. The city was a riot of colours. Every street, every alley and every palace was festively decorated. The crisp air of September, as the day progressed towards the midday hours, had allowed the sun to warm the atmosphere in a very unusual way for the season, so much so that many nobles were sweating inside their brocade or velvet dresses. The luckiest were the noblewomen who had chosen to wear cool coloured silk dresses. Bernardino had recognized the members of the most important families of Jesi, not only by the banners, but because he knew their physiognomies well. The Counts Marcelli, the Marquises Honorati, the Amatori, the Amici and the Colocci. All headed towards Piazza San Floriano to attend the religious service presided over by Monsignor Piersimone Ghislieri, a bishop loved by all citizens. After a passage of jugglers and fire-eaters and another carousel of flag-wavers, finally appeared the bride, beautiful, on a horse with a white coat, with a mane hairstyle in fine braids that fell on one side and the other of the elegant neck of the animal. Lucia was wearing a splendid red damask silk gamurra, enriched by floral motifs drawn in light relief embroidery. With a white lace added to the rectangular neckline and the sleeve edges. The dress, up to her feet long, embellished with set buttons and precious gems, tightened at the waist by a finely woven belt, did not allow the bridesmaid to sit on the horse like an sss, as she was accustomed. Both legs had to be placed on the same side of the horse, making it even more difficult and tiring to maintain balance on the saddle. But Lucia kept a haughty look, holding herself lightly on the reins, without ever looking any citizen in the eye. She allowed herself to be admired, without ever looking back at anyone. Only when she passed by Bernardino, did her face light up and sketched a smile like a greeting to her dear friend and mentor. The printer noticed it and pleased himself. Looking at the Countess Baldeschi with obsequious admiration, he remembered how red was the favourite colour of the brides of the time. Red was the symbol of creative power and, therefore, of fertility, but above all the fabrics of that colour were the most expensive and appreciated. The wedding procession was considered an integral part of the ceremony. Usually it represented a public display of the bride’s family’s wealth, parading through the streets of the city in her precious wedding dress, accompanied by the noble knights of the family. None of this for Lucia Baldeschi, who had not wanted any presumed member of her family around her. Her sober elegance and poise was almost that of a queen who went to the altar to marry her prince. A queen who had always made herself loved by her people for what she was and not for what she wanted to appear. And she would never want appearing differently just because that was a special day. All the citizens of Jesi had learned to love her as a woman with a strong and determined character, but at the same time with a good and kind soul. Bernardino queued for the procession which, shortly afterwards, would arrive on the churchyard of the Church of St. Floriano, where the groom, together with Cardinal Ghislieri, would be waiting for her. There, the wedding ceremony would take place with the exchange of the rings. After that, the bride and groom, celebrants and guests would enter the Church for the celebration itself. Even if she didn’t show it, Lucia couldn’t stand the anxiety anymore. She couldn’t wait to get off her steed and get closer to her groom, extending her left hand forward, so that he would kiss the hand and hold it into his. But as soon as the white horse set foot in the Square, where the Swabian Emperor was born, it was immediately evident to the bride and all her cohorts that Captain Franciolini was not in his place, under the canopy prepared for this purpose in front of the Church. The Bishop, Cardinal Ghislieri, greeted the young bride with embarrassed arms. It was evident he didn’t know how to report the necessary explanations. «Duke Della Rovere’s men... Yes, they were the Duke Della Rovere’s men who presented themselves a moment ago. They exchanged a few words with the Marquis and put a sealed envelope in his hand. He read it in the blink of an eye and then, without uttering a word, jumped on his horse and went off on a great career behind those men. Before disappearing, he turned around and shouted, “Excuse me with the Countess, but my person is urgently needed in Mantua!”»
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