#she's fine so long as she doesn't advertise herself as anything other than Helpful Neighbour

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Beatrice, like Marsilio, sends ten letters a week and has kept everyone up-to-date on the gossip from her neighbourhood in Florence. She has named all her children after her brothers and their mother and their grandparents. She authoritatively tells Marsilio to “take it easier” and has predicted that his ill health in entirely to blame on his stomach lining and spleen. Not to mention his sunrise walks. She does not believe them to be constitutional, she has informed him, in fact she believes they may be harming him. What he should do is rest in the morning and take constitutional walks in the early evening. Marsilio disagrees. He has explained his Rites to Apollo to her, to help her understand. She shot back, The Moon does well by me and since you say you’re more womanly than not, on account of your penchant for weeping, perhaps she would do well by you. Marsilio replied, Simply because I weep more than most when my emotions run high does not mean I must attune my approaches to health to that of your sex. She ripped into him for two pages in return. A man could make ten volumes out of the screeds written to one another about how to best tend to the family’s health. Their father thought it all vastly entertaining and regularly said that if Beatrice had been born a man, she would give Marsilio a run for his money on being the family scholar. Giovanni sometimes takes Beatrice’s side, to Marsilio's annoyance. He is certain it is only done out of a desire to provoke for his Giovanni has something of a contrarian trickster in him that comes out to play from time to time. Last December, Marsilio was in Florence and Beatrice insisted he dine with the family after Christmas-day mass, and he brought Giovanni along. Half-way through the meal Beatrice asked how his health was faring and Marsilio said he was doing well, thank you and Giovanni, that traitor, replied, He lies. He’s been ill for several weeks and only just recovered in time for the feast of Santa Lucia. Beatrice then declared in her matriarchal manner, It is because you drink wine from Chianti, brother. I’ve said before that you must drink wine from Veneto. It is better for you for it is not nearly so sweet. Dry wine is what you need, it will not imbalance your humours to such a disagreeable degree. Chianti is good for me, Marsilio had insisted. Giovanni? Beatrice turned to the other man. Giovanni ate some bread. Grinned at Marsilio’s widening eyes and replied, I agree with you, signora, Veneto would be better for him. But you know how stubborn he is. There, Beatrice had folded her arms in content victory, Giovanni agrees with me. He isn’t a doctor! Nor are you for that matter. I’ve read what you’ve read, and I medicine my children and they are strong and healthy. Not to mention that I tend to my friends when their husbands will not listen to their complaints and send for a proper physician. In any case, Beatrice is present. Beatrice is around. Beatrice will never let a man forget she exists.

Family dinner with the one sister of Marsilio for whom we have a name. We also clearly need an entire book about Beatrice haranguing her brother, ganging up on him with Giovanni, and being the world's nosiest neighbour

#the magi #beatrice is playing with fire though #given the regulations around all things medicine and doctoring related #she's fine so long as she doesn't advertise herself as anything other than Helpful Neighbour #marsilio ficino #writing