Extract from Chapter 38

A few days later Donna Lisa came into the courtyard alone. A black veil shrouded her face.

‘I would speak with your master,’ she said to me.

At this time the Maestro was totally absorbed with the cartoon for the fresco. He was making numerous models and sketches, of horses in various positions, and drawing a vast amount of sketches of men’s faces, arms and bodies. I glanced at Zoroastro.

‘He cannot be disturbed when he is working,’ Zoroastro told her.

‘I will wait,’ she said.

‘He can work for many hours,’ Zoroastro told her kindly. ‘He is capable of going without food or drink or sleep.’

‘I will wait.’

In the later part of the day Donna Lisa’s husband arrived. He sat beside her and stroked her hand. He was older than she was, but that is the way of our times. A man lives longer and therefore often has more than one wife, and I believe Donna Lisa was Francesco del Giocondo’s second or third. He whispered in her ear but she would not be persuaded to leave and go away with him. Why did he not command her to obey him? He would be within his rights as a husband to bring servants to seize her and force her to return to his house with him. But I saw how it was between them. He put his hand under her elbow and tried to coax her to her feet but she shook her head and would not rise.

Eventually he stood up. ‘You, boy.’ He spoke to me and gave me a few pennies. ‘If your master can spare you I would be obliged if you would attend to this lady and bring word to me when she is decided to come home this evening.’

But evening came and still she did not move. It was cold. Zoroastro piled more wood upon his fire and placed a stool for her closer to the flames. I served her a plate of our food, which she refused, and some wine, of which she sipped a little.

The night grew very dark.

Then the Maestro came from the workshop. He came into our common room via the internal door that had been made on his request so that he could pass from his own accommodation directly to the studio at whatever time he chose. His tunic was streaked with plaster and he had clay stuck to his fingers.

I pointed out of the window to where Donna Lisa sat patiently. ‘This lady has waited all day to speak with you,’ I said.

‘A commission? I cannot take on any more work just now.’

‘I told her this, but she said she must speak with you.’

He sighed. ‘It would seem that every rich lady wants her portrait done but I am unable to satisfy the whims of these women.’

‘I do not think this woman would come here on a whim, or to gratify her vanity.’ It was Graziano, the best assessor of women, who made this observation.

I had brought a basin of warm water so that my master could dislodge the particles of clay from his fingers.

‘Very well.’ He immersed his hands in the water. ‘Ask her what she wants, Matteo.’

I went to where Donna Lisa was sitting by the fire. I opened my mouth to speak but she spoke first. ‘Tell your master that I require a death mask made most urgently. Tell him also that this is a task so particular that he is the only person to whom I would entrust it.’

I knew that this work would have to be done at once as, even in cold weather, a body could decay very quickly. It was a very popular custom and there were little workshops that specialized in it. Mainly it was given to apprentices, as by doing it they learned basic bone structure and the contouring of the human face.

I returned and informed my master what she wanted.

‘Tell her that any jobbing craftsman can do this for her.’

‘She says that in her case it is a task most particular.’

‘There is a place in the next street where they do it as a speciality,’ he observed.

The thought came to me that she must have walked past that shop to come here.

She did not bow her head in submission when I gave her my master’s reply. ‘I will wait to speak to him,’ she said.

I returned to the inside of the house and told him of her intention. He made a small gesture of irritation. The dinner was set out on the table. The smell of hot food flavoured the night air. My master made to go away from the window but then he turned back and looked again to where she sat, the veil across her face, her hands folded in her lap.

‘Do we know her? She is familiar to me in some way.’

‘She is the mother or stepmother of the boys who come to watch Zoroastro work at his forge,’ Felipe informed him. ‘The wife of the silk merchant Francesco del Giocondo, who lives in the Via della Stufa.’

‘Giocondo….’ The detail in the name caught his attention. ‘Jocund.’ His tongue played on the syllables. ‘A name with more than one meaning.’ My master went to the doorway and looked at her.

She became aware of his gaze and raised her eyes. She did not drop her glance. Neither did she smile. Only looked at him steadily.

‘Graziano,’ he began, ‘tell her – very gently, mind – that I cannot—’

He broke off, and then abruptly went out into the yard. He spoke with Donna Lisa for a few minutes and then came into the house.

‘Matteo, I would like you to accompany me.’

‘Now?’

‘Now.’

We had not eaten since mid morning. My master went into his private rooms and came out carrying his leather satchel. He opened the door of our store cupboards and selected some materials. ‘Save us a plate from dinner,’ he said to Felipe, ‘and do not wait up.’ Throwing a cloak over his work clothes, he went out with me at his side.

Donna Lisa shivered as we left the warmth of the courtyard. Away from Zoroastro’s forge we felt the bitter wind that swept up from the river to the city centre. My master took off his cloak and placed it around her shoulders. She looked up at him and her mouth curved a little, a half-smile, barely distinguishable by the light of the street torches.

I saw then the glimmer of the girl she had been. Earlier her face had the cast of a lady who would never smile again.

 

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