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"Ser Capulletto is brave, no doubt, my lord," said Marsilio. "But I felt he lacked a certain — well, a certain quality that only the nobility can recognize. He lacks the true spirit of chivalry. That is only my opinion, of course."

Pietro groaned inwardly. Here in this chamber the assemblage was made up of men of noble descent. Exclusivity was their passion. Newly made nobles like the Capulletti were necessary evils at best. There was no argument Carrara could have used that would score him more points. He was winning the crowd by preying on their prejudices.

Clearly thinking along the same lines as Pietro, Cangrande dismissed Marsilio to one side, effectively silencing the Paduan. The Scaliger called forward the Franciscan bishop and asked after the credentials of this Friar Lorenzo.

"The fault is mine, lord Capitano," confessed Bishop Francis. "This young Paduan knight called upon our order this morning, and I told Lorenzo to provide any service Ser Carrara might require. He was only following my instructions." Francis looked stern. "It goes without saying, I knew nothing of any marriage. But if anyone is to be punished for the Church's role in this, let it be me."

"That won't be necessary," said Cangrande. "Still, we must speak to this Lorenzo and discover if there were any irregularities in the — "

He was interrupted by a flurry of movement at the back of the crowd. Whispers became muffled exclamations of "They're here!" and "Look at her!" The rows of nobles parted to make way for Mariotto Montecchio and his bride, Gianozza.

They were a stunning couple. Though they must have known they were walking into a lion's den, nothing could penetrate the armour of their delight. The girl positively glowed. Walking to her right, Mariotto was dignified, straight and sure of his step. What Marsilio's exclusivity argument had begun, their appearance clinched. No one in that crowd could deny that, as a couple, they were perfection.

Marsilio da Carrara was grinning broadly. Nothing would have given Pietro greater pleasure than making the Paduan eat that smirk. Pietro knew Mari's mettle. Mari would never have gone so far as running off with the girl without the active connivance of Carrara. Mari was a lovesick fool. The real villain of the piece was Carrara, trying to sow discord among the Scaliger's knights.

But had he succeeded? What would Antony do now that the couple was here, right in front of him? Holding his breath with the rest of the crowd, Pietro watched as Mariotto knelt before the Scaliger, careful to keep his hand in his beloved's, curtsying beside him. To Mariotto's right sat the friend he had wronged so severely. To the left, the father whose honour he had soiled. He didn't look at them, keeping his gaze on the impassive face of the Scaliger.

The invitation to speak wasn't long in coming. "Ser Montecchio, Verona thanks you for your swift response to our summons. I imagine you know why we sent for you."

"I do, my lord," said Mariotto. "I have married this young woman against the will of her family and without the knowledge of my own. I will never be made to regret this decision. But I do understand that I have caused injury to many people, most notably my best friend in the world. I — " He faltered, unable to look at Antony. "I will make whatever reparations I can to the Capulletti family, and bend under the weight of whatever punishment you decree. Even death."

Pietro imagined he saw the Capitano sigh. "I don't think you will be called upon to die for your love." He then explained for the third time his decree regarding dueling. Antony sat hangdog as ever, broken leg sticking out in front him. His eyes had come up briefly as the couple passed, then returned to gazing blankly at the floor.

"I do not know if punishment is within my purview," concluded the Capitano. "You have not committed a crime against the state. You have transgressed against two families."

"Three," Mariotto corrected. "I have broken faith with my father. I am certain that, had I spoken to him, Lord Montecchio would have been adamantly against this union. Which is why I did not consult him."

The crowd stirred again, and to Pietro's ears these murmurs were approving. Mariotto was not shirking his responsibility. He was the perfect model of a chivalrous young knight in love.

"Three families, then," said Cangrande. "Your punishment lies with those families, as does your forgiveness. First, we must ask the girl's guardian if he wishes to press charges." He turned. "Lord Carrara?"

Il Grande was stroking his trim beard. Technically the girl was his property, and he could try the boy for theft if he wished. Though Marsilio's connivance made that matter less clear. "I am of two minds in this affair. My quandary lies not in the behavior of this young Veronese, but that of my nephew. He overstepped his authority in the family, usurping my right to choose the girl's husband. However, it is possible that he was correct. The amity between this young couple is clear. It is possible, then, that she might not have been right for the match with Capulletto. If that is true, then my nephew acted correctly." Lord Carrara took a deep breath. "Whichever is true, this young man is cleared from blame as far as the Carrarese are concerned. He acted with the implied consent of the girl's family. Knowing his father and hearing the lad himself speak, I am satisfied that he is a worthy youth. The Carrara family accepts the match."

The assemblage let out something akin to a collective sigh.

Ludovico Capulletto leapt back up to his feet. "The Capulletti do not! Do you hear me? We do not! The Capulletti — a name we only undertook to oblige the father of this bride-thief — does not accept this match! We demand justice!"

"I understand what you demand, Ludovico," said Cangrande with hard patience. "But I have not yet heard from the member of your family most wounded in this affair." His voice became gentle. "Antony. What do you have to say?"

The moment dragged out. Pietro could plainly see Antony didn't want to speak at all. He looked at Gianozza, then at Mariotto. His head shook slightly, his lips parted, but no words came out.

Mariotto released his bride's hand and crossed to his friend. Ludovico moved to intercept him, but a sharp look from Cangrande froze the aggrieved father in his tracks.

Reaching the place where Antony sat, broken leg extended, Mariotto halted. Bowing his head, he knelt before his best friend.

Antony's head raised slightly, and it seemed for a moment he might actually speak. But his head sagged again, eyes falling away from Mariotto.

This was too much for Ludovico Capulletto. Grasping one of his son's crutches, Ludovico swung it at Mariotto's head, catching Mari across the temple.

The crack split the silence in the hall. Mariotto hit the floor, poleaxed. Gianozza cried out and ran to kneel by Mariotto. Gargano Montecchio stirred, then kept resolutely to his seat.

The Scaliger leapt to the elder Capulletto's side, gripping the brandished crutch with white knuckles. "Ludovico! Stand down! Stand down, or I'll have you arrested!"

Purple-faced, sweat streaming, Antony's father released his grip on the crutch and stepped back from the Capitano. "See what this has done to my son! He is unable even to speak! I demand justice! It is unfair to deny us recourse to the Court of Swords. If the law was fit enough to mete out justice yesterday, let it be today. Enforce your new rules tomorrow, Capitano, but for this one day allow us to avenge our honour in the best way we know how!"

Ludovico's voice was joined by a score of the gathered nobles as he clamored for a duel. The nobility wanted this duel carried out, even if Cangrande did not. Searching for an objection, the Capitano observed, "Antony is not well enough to stand, let alone fight a duel. And I will not permit you, Ludovico, to face a man a third your age in this ridiculous matter."