The Gift of the Falcon

Adapted from Giovanni Boccaccio's The Ninth Tale of the Fifth Day. Dedicated to Patrice and Kaare Bolgen

In the city of Florence, many many years ago, there lived a well-to-do orphan named Mara Giovanna. Mara Giovanna was brought up by her three big brothers. She was lively and loving and very, very spoiled.

She grew up to be the original material girl. She liked fine horses, fine fashions, fine wines, and fine furnishings, but above all, she loved fine foods.

Her favorite dish was roasted peacocks glazed with a honey and cardamom glacé, presented with all the tail feathers stuck back on, nestled on a bed of saffron rice.

Her second favorite dish was calamari alfresco, steamed to a delicate chewiness, bathed in spiced black ink.

She also loved alligator pie, crocodile stew, and possum soup. (Rumor says she adored chile, but chile hadn't been invented yet.)

All the young men in Florence were attracted by her laughing spirit and her lust for life. One in particular, Frederico Alberighi, sent his servants far and wide to find fine foods to please her. His servants went to Norway to find her the most delicate aged rokefisk.

(Rokefisk are whole fish packed in barrels with fir branches, and then buried in a mound of animal muck for a year.) They went to Sweden for lutefisk, which are basically the same thing, but buried in the ground instead of in the muck, and Korea for kim chee, which are also basically the same thing, but with more herbs, and a jar instead of a barrel. Federico's men also travelled to Scotland for haggisthe lungs, liver, and lights of a sheep, packed together with onions, garlic, and oatmeal in a length of intestine, and to Ireland for black pudding, which was basically the same thing, but based on cow instead of sheep. (Mara Giovanna was not a vegetarian.)

All these foods were served to Mara and dozens of other guests in feast after feast. Frederico also put on the finest fancy balls, the most elaborate amateur masques and magic shows, and the most exciting jousting contests. Mara Giovanna went to all the feasts, the fancy balls, the masques, and the jousts, but she never said two words to Federico. Pretty soon, he was exhausted, black and blue (from being knocked off horses while all canned up in armor), and out of money. Worse, he had seriously overextended his credit cards.

As a result, he was forced to sell nearly everything he had, and move into a tiny falconer's cottage in the little town of Campi. There he made a frugal living by selling whatever his falcon could hunt for him.

In the meantime, Mara Giovanna had decided that it was time to marry. She looked around at all the suitors she had left, and decided on Rasputine Ristorante Scarpi.

Rasputine Ristorante Scarpi was a sharp-faced man with beetling eyebrows and an avaricious nose. He spent most of his time at court helping the royal treasurer design new public policies such as a "poor tax." (In this case, it meant finding new ways to tax the poor.) Rumor was that Rasputine Ristorante Scarpi had made all his money in the silk tunic trade with China, and that the tunic makers weren't paid all that much. Be that as it may, he enjoyed fine horses, fine fashion, fine wines, fine furnishings, and above all, fine food.

Accordingly, after he and Mara got married, the couple had a sumptuous two weeks together. After that, Rasputine Ristorante

Scarpi had to go on a business trip to the East, from which he never returned.

Mara Giovanni went home to live with her brothers. She wasn't too sad. Seven years later, her husband was declared dead, and Mara Giovanna inherited a lot of money. Better yet, her husband had left her another legacy: a beautiful son, Tomas, who was in his seventh year.

Now, it so happened that everybody who lived in Florence that winter came down with a very bad cold. Mara had it, her brother had it, and for them it came and went, but Tomas had it, and remained very very sick. He was getting paler and weaker by the day, and Mara Giovanna was very very worried. Her brothers suggested that Tomas would do better in the clear country air of Campi, where many of the Florentines had vacation homes. And so Mara and Tomas and all three of her brothers packed up and went to Campi.

It was coming on to winter, and Tomas was no better. That is, he was better, briefly, for a few minutes every day just at sunset. That is when he could see, through his casement window, the mountains of Campi glowing purple and warm brown, lit up with the last beams of the setting sun against a deep blue sky. And circling up in that sky, he would see a falcon, gracefully drifting higher and higher, diving swiftly down to the earth, and then rising again, carrying something magic in its talons. Then the falcon circled slowly down again, and Tomas could just make out, on the right side of its neck, three red feathers, gleaming like gold in the sun.

Except for those brief moments, however, he was becoming more and more silent, pale and weak. Mara Giovanna was worried. "Tomas," she said. "Tell me, please tell me, if there is anything in the world I can give you that would make you feel better."

"There is only one thing, mama," said Tomas. "More than anything else in the world, I would like to have that falcon."

Now, Mara Giovanna knew full well that the falcon was owned by her old suitor, Federico Alberighi. How could she ask this man, who had given up everything he owned for her, to now give her the

very last thing in his possession, his livelihood, thefalcon? She knew she would have to find a way, because she loved her son more than anything in the world.

So, the next day, Mara Giovanna went with her serving maid to the little house of Federico Alberighi. She knocked at the door. Federico was shocked to see her at his doorstep.

"Mara Giovanna!" he said. "To think that you should come to my house now!"

"Oh Federico," she said. "I know that it is because of me that you have lost your house, your land, and all your credit cards. I am so sorry. And on top of that, I have come here today. . .I have come here today. . .to. . .to make it up to you by joining you for dinner."

"I am honored," replied the poor falconer. "Please come in, come in, and sit down by the fire while I prepare to serve you." And so Mara and her maid sat down, while Frederico ransacked the kitchen in a panic. All he could find was half a trencher of last night's Fetucchine Alfredo, a couple of duck eggs, one brown speckled egg that didn't look fresh at all, and a dented can of Franco-American Spaghetti. Suddenly, a terrible thought came to him. With anguish in his eyes, he looked over at the falcon in the corner, who had been busy making pie crust.

Before he could say a word, the falcon spoke.

"It's over, Fred. You'd better make room for the next bird. I'm outta here. But please believe me, it is a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done before," it said, stabbed itself with a wee pen knife, and fell down, dead, into the pie crust. An hour later, Federico Alberighi and Mara Giovanna were dining on spiced fowl pie. As she spooned up the last morsel in her bowl, Mara resolved to admit why she had really come. "Federico," she said, "I am afraid I didn't come just to feast with you. I have come to ask you for your falcon."

"My. . .falcon?"

"Oh, Federico, I know very well that it is not fair of me to ask and that it is the last thing you. . ."

"My. . .falcon?" he said again.

"I know it is a terrible thing to ask so much of you, but I had no choice. You see, my son. . ."

"My falcon!" he wailed. "You don't understand. I have already . . .given you my falcon!"

Mara Giovanna looked down at the remains of the spiced fowl pie, and then up again at Federico. Then down at the fowl pie again, as she realized what she'd just had for dinner. She thought at first that she would burst out crying, and then she saw the light of generosity and love in his eyes.

"Oh," she said, "the falcon may be gone, but I have found something better."

"Mara!" he cried.

"Federico!" she replied. And so they fell into each other's arms, and then ran into the kitchen, where Federico scooped up the brown speckled egg that didn't look fresh at all, and back to Mara's brothers' house, straight to the couch where her beloved Tomas lay, surrounded by his uncles.

"Tomas," said Mara. "I cannot bring you the falcon, but I bring you happy news. There is going to be a wedding."

"A wedding?" said the brothers. "To this penniless man, Federico Alberighi? You'll use up all your cash."

"Don't worry," said Mara. "We've decided that I will be handling the money. And even if I fail, I would rather have the man without the money than the money without the man."

And so Mara and Federico set a wedding date, and by the light of their love, Tomas got better and better, until he was well enough to bear their wedding rings down the aisle of the little chapel in Campi. And as Mara Giovanna and Federico Alberighi vowed to love each other for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, Tomas looked out through the big chapel window behind them. There, circling slowly in the bright spring air was a falcon. It dove to the earth, and rose again with something magic in its talons. And then, as it drifted back down to earth again, Tomas could just make out, on the right hand side of its neck, three red feathers glinting like gold in the sun.

And they all lived happily ever after there in Campi, as ovo-lacto vegetarians.      ||

Mary Ellen Cohane's research interest is in the intersection of folklore and mythology with literary theory. She has written and presented numerous papers on literature, principally focusing on James Joyce. Her articles have appeared in the Journal of American Folklore and New Jersey Folklore Quarterly. Her story, "The Gift of the Falcon," is part of a work in progress: one of five stories and a mummers play called A Christmas Book. Professor Cohane has taught in the English and Communications department at Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts since 1986.