Even in florence, it happened

EVEN IN FLORENCE, IT HAPPENED

(A Tuscan Farce in One Act)

By A. Djerbetian

(2026)

    All characters in this play, including the runaway nuns, and the events described are entirely historical. In the summer of 1456, in the town of Prato, an extraordinary scandal and trial took place involving the painter-monk Fra Filippo Lippi, who abducted from the convent of Saint Margaret the novice Lucrezia Buti, her elder sister Spinetta, and several other nuns. Through the personal intervention of Cosimo de' Medici and a special papal bull, the lovers were released from their vows and wed. The author has merely imagined how this unique tribunal might have unfolded.

CHARACTERS

    THE PODEST; (THE JUDGE) — Hired civil magistrate of the Commune of Prato. A legalist, a pedant, steadily losing his mind over the proceedings.

    FRA FILIPPO LIPPI — Genius painter, unfrocked friar, cursed with a "weak nature" and absolute shamelessness.

    COSIMO DE' MEDICI — De facto ruler of Florence, statesman, diplomat, and grand patron of the arts.

    LUCREZIA BUTI — Novice, the Madonna incarnate, the essence of holy simplicity.

    SPINETTA BUTI — Her elder sister, a maiden of strong character and an exaggerated sense of "Christian mutual aid."

    SISTER AGNESE — Runaway nun, witness to the painter’s sheer kindness and generosity.

    CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD — Silent witness at the door, struggling not to burst into laughter.

    ABBESS BARTOLOMEA — Mother Superior of the convent (a silent but crushing psychological presence).

SCENE I

The civil courtroom of the Commune of Prato. Dead of night.

On a raised bench, buried under parchment rolls and splashed with ink, sits the Podest; — purple with fury and exhaustion. By the heavy oak door stands the Captain of the Guard.

JUDGE

(banging his gavel)

Captain! The night is nearly spent, and this case has my ink boiling in my veins! Bring in the accused — Fra Filippo Lippi!

(The doors swing wide. Enter Filippo Lippi. His friar’s habit is disheveled; his eyes carry an unruly artistic sparkle; his face radiates saintly innocence.)

JUDGE

Tell the court from the very beginning. How did this affair start?

FILIPPO LIPPI

As is well known, the venerable Abbess Bartolomea commissioned me to paint a Madonna for the high altar of Saint Margaret’s convent.

JUDGE

Yes, yes, we know that. Proceed.

FILIPPO LIPPI

To paint a Madonna, one requires a living model, Messer. An angelic countenance cannot be carved out of a wheel of aged pecorino.

JUDGE

Understood. Move along!

FILIPPO LIPPI

I requested permission from the Abbess to select a maiden for the Holy Mother from among her novices.

JUDGE

And then? Do not waste the court’s time!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Before I could even lay eyes on the novices, Messer Podest;, I had to survive an ordeal! For three nights in succession, Mother Bartolomea locked me in her private chambers under the pretext of "spiritual instruction." Pouring me glass after glass of potent almond liqueur, she sighed: "Ah, Master Lippi, in a few years I shall turn fifty... Would it trouble your pious brush to shave off a century or two and render my visage... celestial?"

JUDGE

(stunned, reddening with jealous suspicion)

And what did you do, Lippi?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

I tried in earnest, Your Honour! I drank like a condemned man, praying for a miracle. But the good Mother was not content with canvas alone! With a pious smirk, she loosened her collar and attempted to drag me straight onto the monastic cushions!

ABBESS BARTOLOMEA

(leaping from her bench in towering fury)

An infamous, scurrilous lie! A woman of my standing, who guards day and night the chastity and renown of dozens of innocent novices, would never entertain such filth! It is sheer sacrilege to slander a Mother Superior!

JUDGE

(striking the bench with his gavel)

Precisely! The court stands with the venerable Mother! Lippi, you are not merely a seducer, you are a slanderer! For defaming such an upright matron, you shall earn an extended term in the deepest dungeons of Prato!

FILIPPO LIPPI

(smiling serenely)

You are right, Messer Podest;: she is terribly honest. Except her honesty evaporated at the exact speed of the almond liqueur in her decanter. By the end of our vigil, there was as much honesty left in her as there were drops at the bottom of the flask.

ABBESS BARTOLOMEA

(gasping)

Insolence! Filippo, silence this wretch!

JUDGE

Lippi, these are disgraceful fabrications! You have no proof for such drunken delirium!

FILIPPO LIPPI

(shrugging)

No proof, Messer? When the spirit of almond liqueur conquered her chastity, the Abbess clamped my head in a vice-like grip between her... ahem... as she termed them, "ripe buds."

JUDGE & ABBESS

(in unison)

Monstrous, foul slander!

FILIPPO LIPPI

(softly, drawing out the pause)

Slander...? When I realized that all the wine in Tuscany could not transform the Abbess into a Madonna before my eyes... and upon my soul, with all my love for the vine, I could never drink enough to blur the difference... at that suffocating moment, Your Honour, I could not help but notice two indelible dark moles upon one of those so-called "buds."

JUDGE


You... Speak quickly, man! Upon which one?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

(looking straight into the Judge's eyes)

Upon the left, Messer Podest;. Upon the left.

(A ringing, dead silence falls over the hall. The Judge turns pale, then flushes with volcanic rage.)

JUDGE

(choking with fury, staring at the Abbess)

Upon the left... you say... upon the left... How sordid! How utterly disgraceful! I cannot believe my ears... upon the left!

(whirling on the Captain)

Captain! Strike it out! Strike it from the record at once! Not a word about liqueur, not a syllable of... anatomical geography! Burn that parchment! This insanity shall not stain the archives of the Commune!

(The Judge straightens his robes with trembling hands, trying to regain composure.)

Enough! Order! Let us proceed, Lippi. We are squandering precious night hours. So... you vacated the Mother Superior's chambers and presented yourself to the novices. Continue!

FILIPPO LIPPI

When I saw those novices, Your Honour... God in Heaven! Even an ordinary man would have lost his senses before such an array!

JUDGE

(narrowing his eyes)

What do you mean, "even an ordinary man"? And what are you, pray tell?

FILIPPO LIPPI

Any man's head would spin. And I... from my earliest youth, I have suffered from a most fragile constitution!

JUDGE

Indeed, we know it! The whole world knows it, from Florence to Rome!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Yet, despite all those cloistered charms, none could compare to Lucrezia — a born Madonna!

JUDGE

"Born Madonna" is a matter of opinion. According to municipal rolls, she was born a Buti.

FILIPPO LIPPI

Dust and ashes, Messer! Buti is merely the name of her worthy merchant father. But I speak of the spirit! When she stepped into the workshop, the very air smelled of fresh almonds. And picture this: I was compelled to paint her celestial face, her divine hands... with the doors thrown wide open!

JUDGE

Naturally! With your fragile constitution, you would have preferred them bolted!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Is a humble artist to blame if inspiration strikes after dusk? Late June... the heat... my gout...

JUDGE

(consulting the parchment)

Buti... In Tuscan dialect, Buti means "Welcome" or "Hospitable." I understand hospitality, Fra Filippo, but there are limits! To pitch a bed in the heart of Prato and set you to directing nocturnal traffic between two sisters?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Messer Podest;... the heat, the gout...

JUDGE

(slamming the gavel)

Do not dare speak to me of herbs and gout! Abbess Bartolomea states in her petition that on the Feast of the Holy Belt, you committed sacrilege: you smuggled the novice Lucrezia out of the convent in a cart smothered in straw! And as if one were not enough, two weeks later her elder sister, Spinetta Buti, turned up in your cart as well! Did you intend to empty the entire convent through family contracts?! And that was not the end of it! The indictment states that you were not alone in that chamber...

FILIPPO LIPPI

Ah, Spinetta! A delicate matter of Christian charity, Your Honour. Just as I was finishing the preliminary sketch of Lucrezia, her sister Spinetta burst into the cell. And merciful heavens, what tears, what lamentation!

JUDGE

Lamentation? Over what does a novice weep in a workshop at midnight?

FILIPPO LIPPI

She wept over the cosmic injustice of it all! She cried: "Why must my sister reap all the glory, her face enshrined upon high altars for centuries to come, while I, blessed with contours no less divine, must wither away under coarse Benedictine wool?!" Tell me, Your Honour, could I, as a true Christian and a friar, abandon a neighbor in such despair? It was my pastoral duty to comfort a wounded soul!

ABBESS BARTOLOMEA

(muttering with bitter sarcasm)

Comfort her... poor afflicted lamb!

JUDGE

Madam, restrain yourself! (To Lippi) Brother Filippo, the court requires facts, not your theological pastoral care.

FILIPPO LIPPI

How could I separate two devoted sisters? I merely reunited the family, and everything fell into its proper place.

JUDGE

Fell into place, did it? Enlighten us on the details!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Lucrezia posed, while Spinetta kept watch over their virtue. And only later, quite unexpectedly, did Spinetta reveal a profile so exquisite it defies all description.

JUDGE

We are well aware of your talent for noticing fine details! (glancing at the Abbess) Enough dodging, Lippi! Turn to the domestic arrangements of your sanctuary. The court demands specifics. The charge states the Captain discovered you in pitch darkness... verifying proportions by touch. What say you?

FILIPPO LIPPI

Strictly for verification! Exactly as you put it, Messer Podest;! One recognizes a man of culture. It was done by touch, in darkness — for a true master must perceive divine harmony blindfolded!

JUDGE

Let us examine the lodgings. The convent contains forty cells. Your house on Via Santa Margherita contains precisely two rooms on the upper floor. The deposition states that residing there were: yourself, your young apprentice, the young novice Donna Lucrezia, her elder sister Donna Spinetta... and three runaway nuns — Sister Agnese, the noble Fiammetta, and Brigida! Six souls in all! How were the sleeping arrangements distributed?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

In the most Christian manner, and to conserve firewood! In the left chamber, head-to-toe, slept Sister Agnese, Fiammetta, and Brigida. In the right chamber, upon the wide bed, slept Lucrezia — my Madonna. Beside her lay her elder sister, Spinetta.

JUDGE

(leaning forward)

And YOU?! Where did you sleep, Fra Filippo?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

(meekly)

I, as a humble servant of Christ and Cosimo de' Medici, slept directly in the middle! Solely to ensure, Messer Podest;, that the sisters did not quarrel in their sleep!

JUDGE

(reddening)

Are you swearing, Filippo, that nothing untoward occurred between you?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Nothing whatsoever!

JUDGE

Nothing at all?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Well... perhaps occasionally... a tiny bit.

JUDGE

(shrill)

What does "a tiny bit" mean?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Must I demonstrate it for the court, Your Honour?

JUDGE

No! Heaven forbid! But lying there in the dark, having taken wine — how did you distinguish Lucrezia from Spinetta?

FILIPPO LIPPI

Quite simply: Lucrezia almost always slept against the wall.

JUDGE

"Almost always." And when she did not?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

By touch, as I said. A craftsman must discern harmony in the dark. If Lucrezia’s contours were delicate as Tuscan apples, Spinetta’s were... magnificent, luscious Florentine sweetmeats!

JUDGE

We are sufficiently dazzled by your expertise. To the point!

ABBESS BARTOLOMEA

(under her breath, choked with venom)

It seems someone deeply regrets not having shared that couch!

JUDGE

Madam! Be silent! We have formed an ample impression of the virtues of all present. (To Lippi) So you handled both?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Only when positions shifted! If I woke wishing to verify whether I had captured the correct curve for the Madonna's drapery, an artist can easily make an honest mistake in the dark.

JUDGE

So you admit you made mistakes?! That it was not Lucrezia?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

It never lasted long, Your Honour. I know Lucrezia's lines intimately. The moment I realized my error, I turned back toward the wall.

JUDGE

"Turned back"?! What if your hands failed to measure the difference immediately?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Look at yourself, Messer Podest; — your shoulders are narrow, your hands refined. I, on the other hand, have shoulders like an ox and hands like shovels. The sisters are equally distinct. Where one is slender, the other is generous. Even when I strayed in the dark, I realized instantly that my brush had landed upon the wrong canvas!

JUDGE

(shouting)

"The wrong canvas"?! Then why did you not halt immediately?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

Messer Podest;! How could any self-respecting master leave a stroke unfinished? In art, as in grace, once a line is begun, abandoning it halfway is an insult to harmony itself! What would Lucrezia, Spinetta, or even poor Brigida have thought of me?

JUDGE

Brigida too?!

FILIPPO LIPPI

No, Your Honour! Brigida, cloistered since childhood, believed Holy Conception was the universal rule for all women. When she discovered it was... somewhat more terrestrial, she occasionally crept in simply to observe. She would whisper: "How joyful you sound, sisters! At last, cries of delight instead of damp convent chants!" We had to restrain her from explaining the mystery to Mother Bartolomea, convinced the poor Abbess was equally in the dark!

JUDGE

(glaring at Bartolomea)

Yes, of course... the Abbess was entirely in the dark! (To the Captain) Summarize for the record: what did you find upon entering the room?

CAPTAIN

Caught in the act, Messer Podest;. The accused was upon the bed between both Buti sisters. Their garments were in utter disarray, and Brother Filippo was extolling the virtues of each in turn. When ordered to cease, he declared he was "just finishing the Virgin’s left arm" and begged us not to block the moonlight.

JUDGE

Sacrilege, concubinage, and the despoiling of holy vows! The pyre awaits you, Lippi! Captain, prepare the irons and remove this architect of ruin! Bring in the first witness, Lucrezia Buti!

(The guards lead Lippi out and bring in the pale, demure Lucrezia Buti.)

JUDGE

Donna Lucrezia. Tell the tribunal: how did you come to dwell under this rascal's roof?

LUCREZIA

Your Honour... He instructed me to tell you that I went to treat his gout.

JUDGE

A physician now! And you simply repeat what he told you? What do you say yourself?

LUCREZIA

I think whatever Brother Filippo thinks, Your Honour.

JUDGE

Splendid. And how did you treat his gout?

LUCREZIA

I did whatever he bade me do. It depended greatly upon the hour and the amount of wine consumed.

JUDGE

Did he drink heavily?

LUCREZIA

Far more than I did, Messer!

JUDGE

So you drank as well?!

LUCREZIA

Master Filippo told me that wine caused my contours to approach the divine.

JUDGE

And what did you think of your "divine contours"?

LUCREZIA

After the first cup, my thoughts grew hazy. After the second, my feet refused to hold me. And after the third... I understood nothing at all.

JUDGE

Then how did you end up in his bed every night?

LUCREZIA

Believe me, Your Honour, I asked myself that very question every morning at dawn!

JUDGE

Did anything forbidden take place between you?

LUCREZIA

Never! Every evening Brother Filippo embraced me and said: "Lucrezia, my treasure, whatever is forbidden, we shall certainly never do!"

JUDGE

(slapping his forehead)

Holy Mother... And when he confused sides in the dark, pressing you against the masonry while attending to your sister — was that permissible?!

LUCREZIA

When his hands went roaming in search of harmony, if he mistook me for Spinetta, whose forms are far easier to locate, I simply turned his head and whispered: "Filippo, wrong side again. Spinetta lies to the right. Turn to her, and do not spoil my perspective!"

JUDGE

(collapsing in his chair)

She redirected him herself... Captain! Take her away! Bring in Spinetta Buti!

(Lucrezia is escorted out; Spinetta strides in, bold and hands on hips.)

JUDGE

Spinetta... tell us how YOU entered Filippo Lippi’s house!

SPINETTA

My sister had vanished, Messer Podest;! Would you not search for your own kin?

JUDGE

I would... No, this is not about me! Did you find her?

SPINETTA

Praised be God, I did!

JUDGE

And what did you do?

SPINETTA

I embraced them both, of course!

JUDGE

Why embrace Lippi? He abducted her! Why not return to the convent?

SPINETTA

Leave my defenseless sister alone with a wild man? Never!

JUDGE

So you chose to sleep three in a bed?!

SPINETTA

It was warmer, Messer! And I kept strict watch over her honor!

JUDGE

Did you avail yourself of Master Lippi’s... services?!

SPINETTA

Master Lippi is a madman, Your Honour! In his search for the true line, he tossed the mattress about until I nearly hit the floor!

JUDGE

And you wished to join in?!

SPINETTA

The choice was always his. But when he made an occasional error, solely to grant my exhausted sister a moment’s rest... I refused him nothing!

JUDGE

(slamming the gavel)

Sisterly charity! Take her away! Bring in someone from the left room!

(Spinetta is led out. Sister Agnese enters, clutching a brass convent candlestick.)

JUDGE

Sister Agnese. How did a devout soul like you end up under Lippi’s roof?

SISTER AGNESE

(weeping)

By the Holy Belt, Your Honour, I fled from starvation!

JUDGE

Starvation? The Abbess holds the richest granaries in Prato!

SISTER AGNESE

She fed us dry prayers and boiled cabbage! But from Fra Filippo’s chimney came the scent of roasted goose, sage, and sweet grapes! The sisters laughed, and Master Lippi sang of stars and liberty to his lute! We only wanted to sit by the fire and hear poetry.

JUDGE

You fled a holy convent for a hot supper and music?

SISTER AGNESE

We slept head-to-toe under his old cloak and prayed for his gout! Filippo is a shameless rake, but he restored our joy. We are not wanton women, Your Honour — we simply starved for humanity! The very first night, he asked what we wept for in our cells. When Brigida confessed she dreamed of almond biscuits, and Fiammetta longed for ripe figs, that great painter ran to the market himself! He returned breathless, pockets bursting with pastries, jesting like an older brother. Not once did he look upon us with lust. If kindness is a crime, condemn us all with him!

JUDGE

(dazed)

Running to market for pastries... A master favored by the Medici... I understand nothing anymore!

SCENE II

(The heavy doors swing wide. Unannounced, enveloped in quiet authority, enters Cosimo de' Medici. The Judge leaps up, blanching. Abbess Bartolomea stiffens in the shadows.)

JUDGE

(stammering)

My Lord Cosimo! What an unexpected honour... We are trying this scoundrel Lippi for sacrilege...

COSIMO DE' MEDICI

Be seated, Messer Podest;. I come not to subvert the laws of Prato, but to grant your tribunal a wider perspective. Human nature is a tangled tapestry. What appears at first glance as great sin is often merely the frailty of our common clay.

ABBESS BARTOLOMEA

(from the shadows, icy)

Divine law knows no frailty, Medici. Sin demands retribution.

COSIMO DE' MEDICI

(turning to her with a courtly smile)

Spoken like pure gold, Mother Bartolomea. Yet this trial recalls a curious chronicle from my family’s secret archives — fifty years buried in silence.

(Cosimo paces slowly, holding the room spellbound.)

In those days, two men of immense power ruled our land: Pope Baldassarre Cossa — John XXIII, former corsair, subtle connoisseur of worldly grace — and Count Guidantonio da Montefeltro, Lord of Urbino. Both giants fell passionately in love with the very same maiden.

(The Abbess turns pale.)

COSIMO DE' MEDICI

She was the flower of the noble, impoverished house of Bovacchiesi. And while accepting the Pope’s favor in Florence, she carried on a tempestuous romance with the Count of Urbino! Armies marched; excommunications loomed — all for the curve of one maiden’s waist. My late father, Giovanni di Bicci, uncovered their mutual letters in our bank vault. He laid them before both rivals. Over good wine, those lords realized that beauty surpasses masculine wrath. To quell the scandal, the lady was quietly dispatched to a convent in Prato... But her letters, breathing fierce earthly passion, still rest in the Medici vaults.

(Dead silence fills the court.)

COSIMO DE' MEDICI

Why recount this? To remind us that even pontiffs and princes falter before love. I have already dispatched a petition to His Holiness Pope Pius II, requesting that Filippo Lippi and his Madonna be released from their vows. Clear the hall, Messer Podest;. I must share a word of pastoral discretion with the venerable Abbess.

JUDGE

At once, My Lord! Clear the chamber!

(All exit. Cosimo de' Medici and Abbess Bartolomea remain alone in the candlelight. Cosimo approaches gently.)

COSIMO DE' MEDICI

Madam... The Holy Father will absolve Lippi and Lucrezia of their vows. He releases them from shame... exactly as I release you today.

ABBESS BARTOLOMEA

(voice trembling, fighting for composure)

What are you implying, Medici?

COSIMO DE' MEDICI

(softly, with quiet certainty)

Drop the mask, Bartolomea. You know full well that the radiant rose who surrendered her heart to those two great men... was YOU.

(The Abbess slowly bows her head. Her shoulders slump; her heavy rosary slips from trembling fingers. Cosimo quietly extends his hand in lasting peace and forgiveness.)

SUDDEN BLACKOUT

(In the darkness, a lyrical lute melody rises. A warm, measured voice speaks from the shadows.)

VOICE OVER

A few months later, by special bull of Pope Pius II, Fra Filippo Lippi and Lucrezia Buti were officially released from their monastic vows. They were wed. From that tender, turbulent union was born a son, Filippino, who became one of the brightest masters of the Florentine Renaissance. As for the holy convent of Saint Margaret, it returned to its quietude... and the familiar scent of boiled cabbage. Art and humanity had prevailed.

CURTAIN

AUTHOR’S POSTSCRIPT

The meticulous reader might demand a detailed inventory of wedding gifts from Cosimo de' Medici or a description of young Sandro Botticelli sketching the first contours of his Venus upon a tavern napkin. But the author closes the chronicle here. Where dry court records end and moralizing ceases, only Art must speak. And the true wedding — between Earthly Passion and Divine Beauty — Filippo Lippi and Lucrezia Buti celebrated long ago upon the stage of Eternity.

A. Djerbetian