Pietro recalled the good-looking young friar he'd met yesterday, the one who was embarrassed about being French. Cangrande glanced at the Franciscan bishop, who looked grave. "To clarify, Ser Carrara — when you say Montecchio, you mean Cavaliere, not Monsignore."
"Correct. I don't think Lord Montecchio knew anything about it," said Marsilio, smiling at the ashen-faced figure of Mariotto's father.
Damned gracious of him, thought Pietro bitterly, admitting what's clear to anyone with eyes!
Cangrande continued. "What do you know about this couple?"
"I know that before last night neither of them had laid eyes on one another."
"Do you know what happened last night?"
"She told me they — talked." Carrara's tone implied more than his words.
The mob shifted. Pietro wondered why the Scaliger didn't dismiss them. He could get to the bottom of this much more quickly without their interruptions. Then Pietro realized that if this were to be defused, it would have to be in public. Rumours had to be put to rest.
"We have no use for innuendo, Ser Carrara. Define your terms, please."
"Forgive me. Ser Montecchio read to the girl, from the latest work of your resident poet, Maestro Dante Alaghieri."
Oh Christ. Without thinking Pietro joined the crowd in looking towards his father, who was standing between Poco and a short, stern-looking girl. Dante had the good sense not to react in any way. Pietro couldn't help thinking, Well, it will probably help sales.
Cangrande brought the crowd's attention back by asking, "Then what happened?"
"They fell in love," said Marsilio simply.
"And how did you become a party to their affections?"
"She told me early this morning."
"What did you say in response?"
The crowd pressed forward to listen to Carrara's answer. "I said that if she truly loved this young man, she should marry him."
Ludovico made some burbling sounds of indignation. The Scaliger paused for a long moment. "So marriage between them was your idea."
"Love is a rare commodity these days. It should not go unnourished."
"You felt it was your responsibility to nourish this couple's affection."
"Exactly. I felt it my knightly duty."
"I may be a little rusty," said Cangrande without a trace of humour, "but I do not recall fostering love as one of a cavaliere's duties."
"Does the great Capitano wish me to refresh his memory?"
"I pray you, do."
Marsilio's back was spear-straight. "The rules of courtly love are explicit. 'No one should be deprived of love without the very best of reasons.' Rule Eight."
"And a contract of marriage between your family and the noble Capulletti household is not reason enough?"
"No formal betrothal ever took place. I felt — and still feel — that a love as rare and pure as that between my cousin and Ser Montecchio is worth a dozen such alliances."
As Ludovico snarled, Cangrande said, "You spoke with the young man, assured yourself of his honest intentions?"
"I visited him early this morning. I found him to be of good character. Rule Eighteen. 'Good character alone — "
"— makes any man worthy of love,'" Cangrande finished for him. His eyes were narrowed.
"I also found him to be jealous of her betrothal. He had not eaten since laying eyes on her, nor had he slept."
"I trust he was not vexed by too much passion," said Cangrande with heavy irony.
"No, my lord."
"Did you consult the girl's betrothed? Perhaps the same could have been said of him."
"He was not the object of the girl's affection, my lord Capitano," said Marsilio, bowing his head in mock obeisance.
Pietro saw Antony sag slightly. So he is listening. Too bad.
"Ser Capulletto's feelings on the matter did not weigh in your mind?"
Marsilio shook his head. "They did, my noble lord. But then I recalled the last rule of Courtly Love — 'Nothing forbids one woman from being loved by two men.'"
Cangrande pursed his lips. "I suppose the real question, Marsilio da Carrara, is why did you not consult your uncle? He is the paterfamilias, the head of your line. He had made the arrangements for the girl's wedding. Should he not have been consulted?"
"He was closeted with your lordship this morning, discussing matters of state," said Marsilio. "I did not feel it appropriate to disturb you both for a private family matter. As for needing my uncle's approbation, my uncle has repeatedly told me that I should be more interested in family affairs. I was trying to solve this problem in a way that would best honour my ancestors."
"I see. And why such haste?"
"The girl was going to be betrothed at supper this evening. I wanted to resolve this unfortunate conflict before it went any further. Once the formal betrothal had taken place, it would have been more difficult for the girl to extricate herself from an unwanted arrangement."
Antony flinched again. Cangrande said, "So you moved to forestall that event by marrying her off."
"To the man she loves," confirmed Marsilio. "Amor ordinem nescit."
Giacomo da Carrara said, "My lord, may I?" Cangrande nodded, and Il Grande turned to his nephew. "What makes you believe this young man was worthy?"
Marsilio blinked. "I thought that would be obvious, uncle. He is from an ancient house, full of honour. His ancestors have been consuls and podestàs, a few of them even emissaries and citizens of Padua. His family estates are almost at the border between Padua and Verona, just south of Vicenza. I thought it a good symbol for our two cities to be united through such an alliance. As for the man himself, I have seen him on the field of war. He is brave and noble. During the race yesterday he was every ounce what a knight should be."
Pietro was unable to contain himself any longer. "You tried to kill him!" The ugly smirk Marsilio turned on him goaded Pietro on. "Both at Vicenza and during the Palio!"
Marsilio's answer was humble. "At Vicenza we were at war. I assume he would have killed me had the chance arisen. As for yesterday, we rode as we should have — in competition. Many knights lost their lives. It is his credit that he didn't."
"They lost their lives thanks to you!" cried Pietro.
Carrara shook his head sadly and looked at Cangrande. "I don't know what he's talking about."
Pietro was about to shout again but Cangrande interrupted. "Ser Alaghieri, you are not on the city council. Your rights as a knight allow you to proclaim a formal hearing, if you so choose."
Marsilio spoke before Pietro could reply. "My lord, young Alaghieri is obviously unwell, to make such accusations. The collision that caused so many noble Veronese to lose their lives was an accident. You said so yourself."
"Are you calling me a liar?" asked Pietro hotly.
Marsilio gazed at him pityingly. "I say you are mistaken. You've taken one too many knocks to the head. No doubt your leg keeps you from ducking in time."
Pietro twisted, facing the Scaliger. "To prove the truth of my words, I challenge him to-"
"No!" Cangrande fixed Pietro with a hard look. "Perhaps you didn't hear my earlier dictate, Cavaliere. There is no more recourse to the Court of Swords." His eyes swept the whole crowd. "Let me make this clear. Dueling is illegal. Anyone caught dueling will be exiled from Verona's walls, denied food and fire in all of my lands. That is one choice. I also reserve the right to declare summary execution for the offense of dueling. In this warlike time, I will not see the future nobles of my lands cut down in the haste of youth!"
His eyes scanned for any possible dissent. Seeing none, Cangrande returned to the Paduan. "Marsilio da Carrara, both times you saw young Montecchio in action he was in the company of this young man," he indicated Antony. "Is he not as qualified as his friend?"