Ser Federigo started, for the child's voice seemed strangely familiar to him, and, laying his hand gently on the shining head, he asked, "Who is your mother, my fair boy?"
"Monna Giovanna," replied the child. "Will you let me stay a little while and play with your falcon?"
"Indeed I will, my child, but first tell me, where do you live?"
"Just beyond your garden wall," was the reply. "In the great house hidden behind those tall poplar trees."
So the boy chattered on, and Ser Federigo took him on his knee and told him stories of the noble falcon, and soon all three became close friends.
As the days went on Ser Federigo set himself to find out why it was that his lady had returned to her native land, and he discovered that Monna Giovanna had been left a widow after a few years of marriage, and that she had come with a friend and her only child to pass the summer quietly in her grand villa overlooking the Arno. Rarely, or never, did the widow lady go beyond the grounds of her villa. Clad in sable robes she paced her stately halls, or read and worked with her friend, her one delight to see her boy growing in health and strength and watch over this treasure still left to her.
The boy loved his free country life and spent the days racing up and down the terraces, chasing the screaming peacocks or climbing the garden trellises to pluck the ripe fruit. But his chief pastime was to watch the flight of a swift falcon which sometimes soared into sight above the tall poplars, and at others swooped down to earth at his master's call. The child had often wondered who the bird's master might be, and one morning he found out that the pair he sought dwelt in the little cottage-farm a short distance from his own home.
The child came several times to see the falcon. Suddenly his visits ceased, but Ser Federigo had no inkling of the reason. The widow's only child had fallen ill, and was pining away from some unknown malady. His mother would not be comforted; she saw her darling already lying dead before her distracted gaze, and no physician could give her any hope for his cure. Sitting by the invalid's bedside she cried to him, "Is there anything I can do to comfort thee, my child?"
At first the child remained silent, but when she besought him again and again to tell her if there was anything on earth she could obtain for him which might cause him to forget his suffering, he replied, "Yes, there is one thing I want. I pray you give me Ser Federigo's falcon for my own!"
The astonished mother could make no reply. Even for her darling's sake she felt she could not ask such a favor from the lover she had once treated with scorn. Besides, though she knew that any request of hers would be at once granted by him, she knew also that the falcon was renowned as the finest bird throughout the countryside, as well as being the joy and pride of his master's heart. But the boy was fretful and restless, and, fearing to thwart his whim lest his life should depend on it, the poor mother promised to go and ask for the falcon on the very next day.