The Master of Verona

"This next child will be another girl if the wisdom of nurses means anything."

"That might be a record. Unless you had a head start?"

Petruchio roared with laughter. "A late one! Ask cousin Ferdinando, or any of my servants. My wife took some particular wooing before she yielded to my charms."

At the sound of his name, Petruchio's cousin turned. His eyes fixed at once upon Antonia. She stared defiantly back, daring him to mention the state of her clothes. But instead he answered his cousin. "They fought like cats in a sack. Maybe passionate love requires a little bite back."

Some men traced his gaze to Antonia and chuckled. Antonia drew herself up and said, "I always suspected you were a backbiter, signore."

Ferdinando opened his mouth, stopped, then bowed. "I cannot spare the time to spar with you, lady. There'll be nothing left for the Paduans." He was booed.

"But you're a Paduan sympathizer, I thought."

"Still with that?" Ferdinando cocked his head. "I think every man here would cheer Padua on against Florence or Venice. A shame for you, but you can't help where you're born."

"Any more than you can help being a — " But Petruchio cut her off with a tut-tut. She curtsied to him, made a face to Ferdinando, then turned back to Capulletto, who was receiving orders from the general.

"…with the drought, there's not enough food here. I want you and Bonaventura to take some of the men and hole up at Illasi tomorrow. Nico will do the same, heading for Badia."

Capulletto was anxious to begin his hunt for Gianozza. "Is that all?"

Uguccione frowned. "Shame no one taught you manners, whelp. No, that isn't all. Take some hounds and some squires with you. Make it seem innocuous, like you're a hunting party."

"A very well-armed hunting party," quipped Nico da Lozzo.

"One hell of a doe," grinned Bonaventura.

Ferdinando was trying to catch Antonia's eye — he must have come up with a new retort. Normally she would have liked nothing better than to make mincemeat of him. But Capulletto was preparing to ride out. She hurried to Lord Montecchio side and tugged at his sleeve. The Lord of Montecchio looked down at her. "Antonia, my dear? What is it?"

It took remarkably few words to convey the problem. The lord of the castle's eyes opened in comprehension just as Capulletto said, "I'd be delighted to lead a troop. Now, if you'll pardon me, I've got an urgent errand." He yanked on his reins and mounted.

"Just a moment!" cried Lord Montecchio. Too late. Capulletto was touching his spurs to the horse's flanks. He shouted, "Clear a path!"

Antonia waved her hands. "Wait! Antony, wait!"

Capulletto suddenly checked. For a moment Antonia thought he'd heard her. But his eyes were fixed on the main gateway. Emerging from its shadow were Gianozza and Mariotto. Both on one horse, she was seated across his lap as they trotted forward into the courtyard. His doublet was unlaced, and her head was uncovered, hair was loose about her shoulders. She clung to him like a nymph to the prow of a ship.

Then the lovers saw him. Montecchio's horse came to a halt as its rider gazed at his former best friend. "Antony."

Capulletto was entirely still. "Mari."

Come on, Antonia's mind cried out. Put it behind you. Mari, say something, make it easier on him!

"Mari!" cried Aurelia from a window. "Mariotto, is that you? You look like a Frenchman!" She bolted from the window and came tearing out, the rest of the household following. Amid the greetings Mariotto allowed his gaze to drop to where his father stood, waiting. Ignoring Antony, Mari set his wife gently on the ground, dismounted, and pushed past the servants to kneel at his father's feet.

Gargano Montecchio spoke stiffly. "The Scaliger has spoken highly of your service abroad."

"I regret that I was unable to do more," was Mari's neutral reply.

A moment passed, then Gargano reached out a hand. "Welcome home. We have all missed you." After their embrace, Gargano took his son by the shoulders and turned him to face Capulletto. "Now, greet your friend."

Capulletto had not dismounted, so Mariotto walked to stand next to his horse. "Antony. It's good to see you."

Through a rigid jaw Antony said, "Montecchio."

Mariotto's back stiffened, but he pressed on. "Please accept the welcome of this house, old friend." He reached up a hand. Antony looked at it then deliberately dismounted without the offered aid. They shook hands stiffly, then Antony stepped back, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

Antonia heard a snort from nearby. Looking over her shoulder she saw Antony's brother Luigi, a wide grin plastered across his face. He was enjoying his little brother's misery.

In the center of the crowd Mariotto masked his disappointment by saying brightly, "So, what brings you all here?"

"A little vacation, a little war!" Uguccione della Faggiuola thumped him on the back. "Well, you're more solid than I remember. And your timing is perfect. We need strong men for the coming action!"