The birds chirped cheerfully outside of Francesca’s window and the sun gently caressed Francesca’s face. She awoke with a smile, remembering the blissful encounter of last night. The shock of Giancarlo arriving at her window, his carnal pleasure, the feeling of being surrounded by such unfaltering love, and the excitement of escaping from her current life. How could she not be happy? She lingered in bed for a while, trying to remember every detail from the best night of her life. A slight breeze came through the window, traveling under her nightgown and brushing her bare skin. She was completely and utterly content.
She was pulled back to reality by muffled screams and stomping in the hallway. The footsteps grew near and it soon became evident that they were heading straight to her door.
“Stefano, please!” she heard her mother say. The door flew open and Francesca’s father stood in the doorway staring at her with a vicious expression. Her mother stood cowering behind him with tears running down her cheeks. Their servant, Maddalena, stood behind her mother trying to comfort her. One of her eyes was bruised and swollen. Francesca’s face went pale, realizing that her father knew about her and Giancarlo.
“You whore!” He said while storming towards her. Francesca could do nothing but let out a shriek. He approached her and gave her a hard smack across the face. Francesca let out a cry and started to sob. “You give yourself out to a man like a common whore! How dare you dishonor me like this?”
“I’m sorry father! I’m sorry father!” Francesca sobbed. Her cheek stung from her father’s slap.
“You are sorry?” Stefano said furiously. He grabbed her cheeks in his hand to get her to look at him. “Were you sorry last night when you gave yourself up? Were you sorry when you agreed to run away with a commoner? Were you sorry when you betrayed this family?”
“Please, Father,” she begged. “I’ll do whatever you wish.” Tears poured down her cheeks.
“You have shamed me immensely Francesca. No man of noble stature will want a whore such as yourself as a wife now.”
Francesca could only sob harder. She looked to her mother for help, but she stood paralyzed in the doorway with a devasted expression.
There was a pause as Stefano stared hard at Francesca. He finally released her from his grip. Francesca collapsed to the floor as he walked out of the room, followed by his timid wife and bruised servant. “I should send you off to live in the abbey amongst the nuns,” he grumbled.
Alone and distraught, Francesca laid on the floor sobbing. She knew that her dream of running away with Giancarlo was shattered. She would never see him again. She would be locked in her room like a prisoner. Never again would she be able to venture anywhere alone. It was only until she was married and sold off as some chattel that she would be able to escape from this prison. She laid in despair and heartbreak, welcoming the idea of being sent to live amongst the nuns.
Header Image: Pallas and the Centaur, Sandro Botticelli. 1482.