Meeting Arsenio del Pecora

The weather was pleasant as the winter sun caressed the trees, giving them a deep green color, and the rain, which had fallen a few hours earlier, sparkled in the sun like shards of glass. The market was about to open as the first merchants arrived and began unloading their goods. The money traders were already there trying to convince respectable merchants to borrow from them for their daily business transactions. Since the Pope strictly forbade usury, only Jews were allowed to earn a commission through this activity. Some merchants took risks and traded money illegally. Should they get caught, they would be punished with thirty lashes on their back or long imprisonment.

On this pleasant morning, Margherita decided to go out to the market, as it had been some time since she had met the merchants who had become her best friends, ever since the girl dressed in rags turned into the beautiful girl with the captivating, smiling face.

Little did she know that in the market that morning, she would meet the man who would be her future companion and the father of her only child.

As she made her way among the stalls, some laden with fruit and some with sacks of flour or wild mushrooms, the donors of the small gifts arrived. The vendors loved to give her cute gifts in the hope of receiving a hug or kiss on the cheek in exchange. Margherita used to come to the market with a large wicker basket and fill it with her small offerings.

In the corner of the market, three people in strange dress-wearing top hats stood in a huddle. They were quite distinguishable from the vendors and buyers. Margherita stopped by one of her friends, "Who are these people?" she asked, curious.

"Jews from Livorno," they answered. "They lend money for interest, and from whoever does not have the money to pay them back, they take merchandise instead."

One of the vendors smilingly said, "And who has money to return, and especially to Jews."

Margherita became even more curious and began to walk towards them. Suddenly she heard a noise and panic as many merchants began throwing their merchandise off their stands and began running for their lives. The people who were pointed out to her as Jews began folding up their portable stand also trying to get away when suddenly twenty armed soldiers on horseback appeared. They were led by their commander, who was brandishing a sword, and he shouted with a booming voice, "No one leaves their places."

The commander dismounted and walked to the stand of the Jews and said, "May I see any documentation that permits you to trade in money."

The three looked at each other in shock. " We have no such document, but His Excellency the Pope gave all Jews permission to lend money with interest," they answered.

"The Pope can do what he wants in his territory, this is Tuscany, and he has no rights over here. So, therefore, you are all going to prison until after your trial," the commander answered.

Margherita, who stood by observing what was taking place suddenly walked over to the commander and said, "Permit me, Commander. I understand that Tuscany has strict rules about lending money for interest, but does the law permit these poor unfortunates to engage in any business other than money lending? For example, does the law allow them to trade grain? Does the law allow them to work the land or to own land? Does the law allow them to build their own homes or to erect synagogues so they can worship?"

The commander stood facing her with a puzzled look on his face." May I know with whom do I have the honor of speaking," he asked.

"Has Your Honor introduced himself to me? Why must I introduce myself to a stranger?" Margherita asked.

The horsemen began to laugh while the commander turned red with anger. "I am Arsenio del Pecora, post commander of Montepulciano," he shouted.

"And I am Margherita D'Acquaviva, and I demand that you leave these Jews alone," she said.

Arsenio looked at her beautiful face, examined her sharp, uncompromising eyes, then glanced towards the three Jews who stood trembling with fear, and said, "If you permit me to meet you again, I will release the Jews, but provided that they do not dare come here anymore."

"I have not made a request, and you have no law to rely on that allows you to detain them. I, therefore, reject the condition that you placed before me," Margherita said forcefully.

Arsenio did not want to be humiliated anymore, so he mounted his horse and galloped away while his horseman galloped after him. The Jews quickly folded their stands and left the area.

Margherita walked around the stalls as all eyes were on her. Silence reigned, and no one moved as everyone stood frozen in place, when suddenly somebody cried out, "Viva Margherita, you are a born leader."

Margherita walked toward her house with a broad smile on her face carrying a basket full of groceries that she received from the various vendors.

A few months later, Margherita celebrated her sixteenth birthday. It could not be called a celebration since nobody in her household remembered her birthday. Margherita was the only one who knew it was her birthday; she decided to celebrate by giving herself a birthday present. She left her house early in the morning and headed toward the city of Montepulciano, the central fortified city that was actually within several hour's walking distance from where she lived. However, by riding either a horse or donkey, the travel time could be drastically reduced. She decided to ask her neighbor, Guglielmo Il Rosso, to lend her his horse. Guglielmo was not concerned about lending her the horse, as Margherita used to feed the horse, and he knew she was a responsible girl. Before giving her the horse, he wanted to make sure that her father agreed to lend her the horse.

"I beg you," Margherita pleaded, "You must swear to me never to discuss it with my father. You know him well and know that he will never allow me to take the horse."

"Margherita, Margherita, you are placing potential trouble upon my head. If something were to happen to you, I would be blamed. So I do not want to get involved," Guglielmo said.

Margherita, who was almost in tears, said, "Oh Guglielmo, it is my birthday today, and my father and stepmother do not even remember it. Would you please give me a few hours of happiness? Don't you think I deserve it?"

Guglielmo, who saw tears in her big and beautiful eyes, was so moved that he could not refuse her request. So he tapped her on the shoulder, pointed to the door, and allowed her to take the horse out of the stable.

Margherita jumped up excitedly and kissed him on the cheek, and then hugged the horse's nose and let him sniff her. The horse stomped its hind leg and released a squeal of joy when he realized that he was being taken out for a ride.

The mountain road was difficult, but the view seen from the hilltops filled her with happiness. The clear air and the smell of the fresh and moist grass made them both giddy. From time to time, they stopped, and Margherita slipped off the back of the young horse as she allowed him to gallop freely among the bushes while she lay on her back looking at the bright sky and tried to see characters in the clouds that changed shape constantly.

After a while, she continued on her way. She had to take a roundabout route to not get caught in the swamps that flooded the low-lying areas. On the way, she passed clusters of small homes belonging to farmers who were tending their vineyards.

It suddenly started to rain very heavily, and one of the farmers gave Margherita shelter until it would stop raining. Not only did it not stop raining, but she noticed that the roads were flooded, and the situation did not improve even as night fell. The farmer offered Margherita to stay the night, an offer which she graciously accepted.

The farmer lit the fireplace in his home. The entire family lived in one large room, along with two goats and a few chickens that were quarreling between them all the time. A large furry cat sat on the wooden window sill beside the fireplace, which had just begun to spread a pleasant warmth. A delicious smelling soup was simmering inside a cast-iron pot that was hanging over the glowing coals. The horse was brought into a dry stable and was placed alongside the farmer's horse. Margherita was no stranger to this lifestyle, but she enjoyed seeing the calm and tranquility of the family life and the love that parents give to their little children, a love she never experienced.

"Let me pour you some hot lentil soup," the farmer's wife said with a smile. "You must be starving,"

"You are such wonderful people, how can I thank you for this kindness?" Margherita replied.

The farmer's wife had cleaned the straw mattresses stacked in a pile one on top of the other in the corner of the room. "Let us finish eating and I will prepare the mattress so that you can rest," she said to Margherita.

She could not take her eyes off Margherita as she felt so honored that such beauty entered her house and brought with her an atmosphere of renewal and change. She felt that Margherita brought into the poor simple farmer's house a divine feeling.

Even as darkness fell and the farmer put out the candles, the coals continued to spread a pleasant warmth and light throughout the house. Margherita, who was exhausted from the trip, curled up in a sheep's wool blanket, lay back and closed her eyes. She heard the thunder and the rain as it beat down on the roof of clay and upon the house's stone walls. She tried falling asleep but to no avail. As she lay listening to the rain, she imagined that she heard voices talking to her and calling her name. She was sure that she was hallucinating. She sat up and tried to see if any members of the family were still awake, but everyone was sleeping. Silently, she lay down again on her back and closed her eyes. "Margherita," she heard the voice calling. "Who are you?" she asked. Silence. "It must be that extreme tiredness causes hallucinations," she thought to herself.

When Margherita woke up the next morning, she saw that everyone was already up and out in the fields. Her horse was outside the stable tied to a hook nailed into the side of the house.

The journey to Montepulciano was not long anymore. The sun was shining, the sky was clear and the horse galloped through the narrow roads, with Margherita firmly holding the reins and struggling with her hair as the wind blew it into her face.

Margherita stopped the horse at the city's northern gate and tied it to an iron ring affixed in the wall alongside other horses. She patted his sweaty nose and whispered into his ear, "Wait for me, my dear horse. I will return very quickly."