THE HISTORY OF BIANCA CAPELLO CONCLUDED.

THE furious Buonaventuri would not let her go on; but starting up, and running to her in a fury, said, ‘Go hang yourself, and then howl to those that will hear you in the other world: in this, I’ll follow my own way; therefore do not pretend to whine to me, but take care of yourself, who are in more danger; for do you think, strumpet, that I won’t cut off that golden horn, which you have placed on my head, by stopping your windpipe with a knife one day or other.’

In the mean time the grand Duke being returned to his palace, could not rest there, having observed in Bianca, (in spite of all her endeavours to hide it,) a great concern at his late discourse; and impatient to give some satisfaction either to her or himself, returned back; and not finding her in her apartment, softly descended the back-stairs, from the door of which he overheard every word that had passed: and Pietro thus answering his wife, in a great rage turned his back, and went out of the house. Deaf to all her calls, and despising all her care, he left her overwhelmed with grief and tears; in which she retired to her own apartment, without knowing Francisco had been there, he having taken care to mount the stair-case first, and get out of sight.

Here she gave a loose to all her sorrows, enumerating all her misfortunes, and lamenting the hour that brought her to the light of this world, where she was doom’d to find them; and in a flood of tears, gave vent to the passion that filled her breast. Long would these reflections have employed her time and thoughts, had not the grand Duke interrupted them, who coming into the room, and appearing ignorant of the matter, asked the cause; saying, ‘To what are owing these tears, and these complaints? dearer than my soul, tell me what misfortune has befallen you?’ ‘Nothing, sir, said she, occasions my concern but compassion for my husband, who as you have commanded, I have admonished; but he seems so little to regard his safety, that I fear some mischief will attend him.’

‘Is it nothing but that, (replied the grand Duke,) Oh, let him follow his own inclination, and at last he will find the consequence: but why will you afflict and torment yourself for what you cannot prevent? a torrent must have way, or they that try to stop it may be drowned in it: Buonaventuri is headstrong, and void of understanding, which will inevitably draw on his fate, if he does not quickly change his manners.’

 Yet after all this, the desperate Pietro, full of indignation and revenge, meeting Ruberto Ricci next day at the column of the Santa Trinita, where he was talking with two other gentlemen; he clapt a pistol to his breast, saying, ‘I don’t know what hinders me, despicable, infamous wretch that you are, from shooting you this minute through the heart: but stay and hear what I have to say to you, for you shall not escape me. I will go to your aunt, as often as I please, in defiance of you; and if ever I know, or but guess, that you make the least murmur or complaint to the grand Duke, you shall not live an hour after it.’

Ricci being unarmed, and thus accosted, remained immoveable as a statue, till the other had done speaking, and then, without the least reply, went with his companions immediately to the grand Duke, who was at the Casino, where he declared to him all that had passed just before at the Column; to which the two gentlemen witnessing, the grand Duke, (who remembered his threats to his wife,) no longer doubting of his unbounded brutality, thought within himself, that there was no more time to be lost in inflicting on Pietro the punishment he deserved; and taking Ricci apart, they talked together for some time in the garden, where the grand Duke having given him what directions he thought proper, sent him away, and the next morning by times mounting on horseback, rode to his villa of Pratolino, where he stayed all that day and the next night. The result of their conference was, that Ricci should get together twelve  companions, all men well armed, strong, and resolute; some of whom had cutlasses of such a temper, that with one stroke, they were able to cut off the head of a bull; for he knew that Buonaventuri was ever provided with pistols, and other arms from head to foot, in which equipage, he constantly went in the night to Bongianna’s house, not returning home till very late; so that in order to be sure of his prey, he divided his company, setting two or more in different places, through which Pietro might pass; and his page (who personally knew him) as centinel at the beautiful bridge of la Santa Trinita, to give notice when he should be there, for which Ruberto waited with great impatience, after he had made this disposition of his forces.

And now the unlucky lover having spent the night with his mistress, rose before break of day, and taking leave of her went slowly to his own house. As he was walking over the bridge, the page gave two whistles, and then cry’d, alo! alo! the accustomed noise of the Florentine ruffians in those days: at this the fierce Pietro, though unused to fear, felt some presage of his approaching fate; and taking in his left hand a pistol, held it ready cocked, and with his drawn sword in his right, passed the bridge, that led directly to the great gate of his palace; but as his apartment was on the ground-floor, the door to it lay on the other side of the house; so that he was obliged, after descending the bridge, to turn down a little street, on the left hand of which, within a stone’s throw, was the entrance that he always kept the  key of. Meeting in this narrow passage two armed men, he did not immediately think they had any design on him; but going a little farther, he saw four more, who stopt his way, and these having joined the two first, six others started out and encompassed him, with Ricci in the midst, crying out, kill, kill, the infamous traitor. Buonaventuri knowing his voice, threw his cloak to the ground, and firing his pistol, hit one of them; but whilst he was taking another out of his pocket, they all fell on him at once; yet by means of his armour, he escaped for some time, making a very brave defence, and had already wounded two of them, when the assailants renewing their attack, by the advantage of their short arms, and the closeness of the street, struck him at every blow, so that being driven to the wall, he could do little damage with his sword: but as Ricci got under it, thinking to end him, he exerted all his force for one blow, and cut him quite thorough his iron head-piece to his skull; at the sight of which a cousin of Ricci’s, with a back stroke, wounded Pietro in the face, and repeating it with a second, split one side of his head, so that his brains stuck to the wall. Buonaventuri finding himself dying, said, oh! no more for mercy, since I am dead, and dropt down; after which they all fell on him, stabbing him in every part which his armour did not cover, and there left him, with no less than five and thirty mortal wounds. Ricci, as fast as he could, got to the palace of the princess Isabella, where, though his hurt was dangerous, he was by the help of a good surgeon, cured in a short time.

 Not far from the place where this bloody scene was acted, stood an apothecary’s shop, the people of which, having heard the clash of arms and noise of men, with two of their boys, as it drew near day, went to see what was the matter, and there found the unfortunate Pietro bathed in his blood upon the ground, and by same faint short sighs, could just perceive he was not quite dead: upon which they run for a light, and immediately conveyed him to the nearest church, named St. Jacopo, which stands upon the river Arno.

The sun was no sooner up than the death of Buonaventuri was spread about the whole city; and coming to the ears of the poor deluded, but still affectionate Bianca, almost distracted her. She, with the utmost violence of passion, was ready to destroy herself, in order to follow him; which perhaps in the first rage of sorrow she might have done, (notwithstanding the endeavours of all her friends and acquaintance who came to comfort her,) if the great Duke had not arrived at that juncture, to restrain and pacify her, which even he found difficulty in doing.

The next night after this had happened, as soon as it was quite dark, two armed men masked got into Bongianna’s house by the tiles, and cutting her throat left her dead on the floor: such was the miserable end of these thoughtless lovers, and such the revenge taken by this lady’s relations, for the infamy she had brought upon them.

The grand Duke, that he might not seem to know of this execution, put on all the appearance of anger and inquisition after the actors in it; but  took care they never should be discovered, so that by degrees the affair was dropt; and Ricci unsuspected went about as before.

Time, which alleviates all affliction, had now restored Bianca to herself, whose charms and merits the Grand Duke grew every day more sensible of; and reflecting that his love alone had obscured her virtues, which in themselves were both great and many, and that her birth, though not royal, was illustrious, resolved to give the utmost proof of a sincere passion, by sharing his power and title with her who had already all his heart; and on the evening of the 22d of June, 1579, publicly married her; commanding the senate of forty eight, to do her homage as grand Dutchess, and the next day she went out as such, with the German guard, and a train of eight coaches. To compleat her glory, the senate of Venice, when they heard she was become great Dutchess of Tuscany, not only repealed their former acts against her, but made a new one, by which she was adopted daughter of that state, which sent a solemn embassy with it to the grand Duke, and a dowry suitable to the dignity they had given her.

When the sudden marriage of Francisco was effected, the cardinal Ferdinando, his next brother, resided at Rome, where he received the news of it with the greatest indignation, his haughty soul not enduring any alliance below that of a crowned head; and he esteemed his blood so much disgraced by this marriage, that he set a thousand machines at work, to take away (what he called) the shame of his family, by the death of Bianca; whom he  oftentimes attempted to poison, either by means of her servants, or presents that he sent her. His designs by one accident or other, being discovered, made her very cautious, nor was he less suspicious of her, fearing to meet the same fate he had designed to give; so that a mutual hate reign’d in both, though both disguised it, out of regard to the grand Duke.

It happened one time amongst others, that the cardinal being at Florence, and they all dining together, the grand Dutchess had that morning taken a fancy to make a tart with her own hands, which, towards the latter end of the dinner was served up with other things of the same sort; and when Ferdinando was desired to taste of it, he put it off, and began some gay discourse, that he might not appear to have any thought about it. At last the grand Duke, (after having asked his brother several times to taste what Bianca had made,) said, since none else will begin, I must, and took a piece and eat it: after which the grand Dutchess did the like, and the conversation continued for some time with the same good humour, when all of a sudden they both felt such violent and strong pains in their bowels, that they were obliged to retire to their apartment, and go to bed; where they waited in vain for remedies and physicians, the cardinal having given strict commands, that none should come near them, himself and his creatures keeping guard at the doors for that purpose; whilst the poor unhappy princes expired in tortures, on the 28th of October, 1586. He buried them by each other, with all due honours: himself  renouncing the cardinal’s hat, was immediately acknowledged grand Duke of Tuscany; through all which he caused a report to be spread, that Bianca Capello intended to poison him, which he pretended he discovered by means of a ring he always wore, the stone in it being of a nature to change colour at the approach of poison; and so he avoided tasting the tart, which she seeing her husband do, rather than outlive him, or discover her treachery, chose to eat the rest; but however this story was strengthened by authority, very few believed it; for besides the improbability of her killing herself, with that coolness, when she might have found a hundred pretences to hinder Francisco from eating the tart, without discovering herself, (and would no doubt if she had known it to be poisoned) many circumstances concurred to make it plainly a contrivance of the cardinals, who had bribed the servant that provided the materials for the tart, to put poison amongst them. But as Francisco dying without a son, left Ferdinando his heir, the nobles thought it wiser to receive with a good grace their living prince, than hazard their safeties, by a vain inquiry after the dead one, tho’ a man beloved and esteemed, a fine gentleman and great governor, all the arts and sciences being in perfection in his time, as may be seen by their best poets and historians, who all dedicated their works to him.