Chapter 4 #3
“Piazza Santissima Annunziata. That building at the north end is the church of the Annunciation. The equestrian statue facing us is Duke Ferdinando the First.”
“Our quasi-environmentalist,” Daniel exclaimed. “Or should I say, enviro-capitalist?”
“Exactly.”
They emerged onto a large, relatively empty piazza.
A few tourists sat on the rows of steps beneath colonnades along each side, and there were bicycles parked here and there.
A cluster of tourists surrounded the rear of the statue of the duke and his horse, which seemed like a rather odd vantage point to Daniel.
Mel guided him to the center of the piazza and pointed east.
“That is the very first orphanage ever built in the world: the Spedale degli Innocenti. See that iron fence in front of the wall over there to the left? There used to be a wooden turntable there where destitute mothers could anonymously leave babies they could not afford to feed to be wheeled around into the orphanage.”
She then pointed up at the tops of the graceful columns along the front. “Those blue and white medallions are each different representations of adorable babies in swaddling clothes, created by Andrea Della Robbia.”
Turning him around, she pointed west. “That is a quaint hotel full of antiques that used to be the guest rooms of a monastery. Every single room is uniquely furnished, and some have terraces with views of the piazza. The terraces on the very top have a view of Il Duomo as well. Someday I am going to spend a night there and eat strawberries and drink prosecco.”
Daniel chuckled.
Now she turned to the duke’s statue. “They say that the duke had this statue placed here so he could gaze forever at a palace in the distance, where the woman he loved was imprisoned by her jealous husband. Robert Browning wrote a long poem about it, which basically can be summed up as ‘don’t put off until tomorrow, the love you desire today.’”
Daniel laughed at her interpretation. “You should reconsider your profession. I think you’d make a great tour guide. You’re just full of random trivia.”
“I’ve been a fan of Elizabeth Barrett Browning since I was a teenager.
She and Robert lived in Florence for their entire marriage, which made them even more interesting since this is my favorite city.
” The crowd of tourists departed, and Daniel tried to figure out what had been so fascinating as they approached the rear of the huge statue.
“And for the crowning glory of our Florence tour, I give you our environmentalist duke and his bees,” Mel pointed to a large metal plate on the base with a flourish. It was covered with intricate, tiny sculptures of worker bees in expanding concentric circles, each facing a queen bee in the center.
Daniel leaned in to study the sculpture and read the words above them. “Majestate Tantum. My Latin’s rusty. ‘Majesty so great?’”
“Something like that. And he was, being the very best of all the grand dukes,” Mel explained. “The design is considered his personal crest. According to the legend, if you can guess the number of bees by looking and not counting, you will have good fortune.”
Daniel scrutinized the bees, but realized with a frisson of fear he couldn’t focus on the tiny bees at all.
He shook his head. “I better not tempt fate today. Did you know that Napoleon had bees on his coat of arms? It’s the most popular insect in heraldry,” Daniel said.
“Pops told all kinds of stories about the role bees played in human history. But I never heard of this fellow until today.”
“We could actually do a bee tour. There are tons of bees in Rome. Everywhere you go, bees on everything.” Mel pulled out her camera and waved him into position beside the plaque.
Daniel hooked a thumb toward the statue towering over them. “Pops loved bee lore like this.” He felt a pang of loss when he remembered that he could never share this with him. But Mel was taking pictures, so he smiled and pointed to the bees.
Mel snapped one last picture and bowed. “And that, my dear professor, is your tour.”
Daniel leaned out and looked down the long, shadowy corridor of Via dei Servi to where the top of the cathedral still reached the sunlight, even though dusk had captured the piazza below it. Unbelievable. “If you are going to gaze at something for all eternity, this is a heck of a view.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Mel agreed.
“Thanks. That was a great tour. I appreciate your indulging my…” He stopped to search for the right word to describe the reason they had come to Florence.
“Little neurosis?”
“I said that?”
She nodded.
“When?”
He frowned when she nodded. “When?”
“Right before that phone call you got about…blackmail?” She smiled.
“Little neurosis.”
“That’s what you said. But you know what didn’t work for me, though?
You said I should think of you as my slightly dotty old uncle.
” She looked him up and down. “My dotty old uncle doesn’t look at all like you, much less scandalize innocent tourists by talking about setting up risqué experiments in the sacred halls of the Uffizi. ”
“They seemed more tantalized than scandalized.”
“I doubt that.” Mel shook her head and smiled. “Okay, there’s a way back to the train station that will take us through San Lorenzo market. You might find something for your friend there. Jamie, was it?”
“It’s fine. I’ll pick something up in the duty-free.”
“Okay, then the fast and boring route to the station is this way.”
“Lead on.”
She did so and set a quick pace. They slowed their trek through Florence’s quieter streets briefly when she found a roadside stand offering something called lampredotto bagnato.
“Wait. This is classic Florence street food. You can’t leave without tasting this.” They set off again, eating as they walked. “I’ll tell you what it is, but only after you try it.”
He took a bite of the sandwich piled with meat and sauce. It was absolutely delicious—tender and flavorful. “Mmmm. All right. What is it?”
“Cow’s stomach!” She laughed at his surprised expression.
“Well, it tastes great.” He took another large bite. “Better than tripe, anyway.”
“Tripe is just way too—” Her expression changed to one of terror as she spun around. “Daniel! Look out!”