The Porta a San Nicolò in Florence is, among other legends, associated with a jest played by the famous Barlacchia on a friend, the story of which runs as follows:
“It is an old saying that la porta di dietro è quella che ruba la casa (it is the back gate which robs a house), and it was going back to the gate of San Nicolò which robbed a man of all his patience. This man had gone with Barlacchia the jester from Florence to Val d’Arno, and on returning they had stopped in the plain of Ripolo, where the friend was obliged to delay for a time, while Barlacchia went on. Now it was so late that although Barlacchia was certain to reach the Porto a San Nicolò in time to enter, it was doubtful whether the one who came later could do so unless a word should be spoken in advance to the guard, who for friendship or a fee would sit up and let the late-comer in. Therefore the friend said to the jester, ‘Di gratia facesse sostenere la porta’—‘See that the gate is all right,’ or that all is right at the bridge—meaning, of course, that he should make it right with the guardian to let him in.
“And when Barlacchia came to the gate, he indeed asked the officer in charge se questi si sostengo—whether it was all right, and if it stood firmly, and was in no danger of falling, affirming that he was making special inquiry at request of a
friend who was commissioner of the city gates and bridges, and obtained a paper certifying that the gate was in excellent condition, after which he went home.
“Trotting along on his mule came the friend, who, believing that Barlacchia had made it all right with the guard, had not hurried. But he found it was all wrong, and that ‘a great mistake had been made somewhere,’ as the eel said when he was thrown into boiling hot oil instead of cold water. For he found the gate locked and nobody to let him in, so that in a great rage he was obliged to go back to an inn which was distinguished for nothing but its badness, dove stette con gran disagio quella notte (where he passed the night in great discomfort).
“And when morning came, he passed the gate, but stopped and asked whether Barlacchia had been there the night before. To which the guard answered, ‘Yes,’ and that he had been very particular in his inquiries as to whether the doors were firm on their hinges, and if the foundations were secure; on hearing which, the man saw that he had been sold, [108] and going to the Piazza Signoria, and meeting Barlacchia, gli disse rilevata villania, let him have abuse in bold relief and large proportion, saying that it was infamous to snipe his equal in all things and better in most, in such a low-flung manner, unbecoming a half-grown chimney-sweep, and that if he did not respect himself too much to use improper or strong language, he would say that Barlacchia was a dastardly blackguard and a son of a priest. To which Barlacchia remonstrated that he had performed to perfection exactly what he had promised to do, yea, a punto, to the very letter.
“Now by this time half Florence had assembled, and being delighted beyond all measure at this racy dispute, insisted on forming a street-court and settling the question alla fresca. And when the evidence was taken, and all the facts, which long in darkness lay, were brought full clearly to the light of day, there was such a roaring of laughter and clapping of lands that you would have sworn the Guelfs and Ghibellines had got at it again full swing. But the verdict was that Barlacchia was acquitted without a stain on his character.
“Hæc fabula docet,” comments Flaxius, “that there be others besides Tyll Eulenspiegel who make mischief by fulfilling laws too literally. And there are no people in this world who contrive to break the Spirit of Christianity so much as those who follow it simply to the Letter.”
THE ENCHANTED COW OF LA VIA VACCHERECCIA
“On Dunmore Heath I also slewe
A monstrous wild and cruell beaste
Called the Dun Cow of Dunmore plaine,
Who many people had opprest.”—Guy, Earl of Warwick.