A rich merchant by the name of Mercutio was called away on business during the early winter months. When snow began to fall on the ground, the mountain pass became blocked, causing delay to Mercutio’s return.
On his return Mercutio found his wife had taken to her bed.
“What is the matter, my love? Are you ailing?”
“I am with child,” she said.
“How did this happen?” he asked.
“I was on my way home from the fields,” she said, “when I ate a snow drop.”
Pretending to believe her, Mercutio ordered the house servant to fetch some soup.
The snow child was born in the autumn.
A few years later, Mercutio was away on business when the snow began to fall. He came home to find his wife once more in bed.
“What is the matter, my love? Are you ailing?”
“I am with child,” she said.
Mercutio appeared satisfied.
“It is time our child saw something of the world,” he said. “I will take him away for few days to the coast.”
In the port, Mercutio met with a certain Greek Captain of his acquaintance who was to set sail for the Hellespont and the Sultan’s palace.
“Go with this man,” he said, turning to his son. “You will see the world.”
The Greek Captain gave Mercutio a bag of piastre and led the child on board his ship.
While the child was ignorant of his fate, Mercutio returned home, laden with merchandise.
His pregnant wife came to the door. “Where is our son?” she said. “What has happened to him?”
“It is hot down on the coast,” said Mercutio. “He must have melted away.”
*
“I wonder if Diego has children of his own?”
“Was he married when you knew him? Or shouldn’t I ask?”
“He was a dashing polo player and that was all there was to it.”
“This is a cruel story.”
“It is rather sad.”
“Do you think the second child was his?”
“I hope so. There are so many step-children and adopted children these days. Does it matter?”