JAMES RUNCIE
THE COLOUR OF
HEAVEN
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
HARPER
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2003
James Runcie asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007235278
Ebook Edition © NOVEMBER 2012 ISBN 9780007494996 Version: 2016-10-25
for Marilyn
CONTENTS
Sapphire, nor diamond, nor emerald,
Nor other precious stones past reckoning, Topaz, nor pearl, nor ruby like a king, Nor that most virtuous jewel, jasper call’d, Nor amethyst, nor onyx, nor basalt, Each counted for a very marvellous thing, Is half so excellently gladdening As is my lady’s head uncoronall’d. All beauty by her beauty is made dim; Like to the stars she is for loftiness; And with her voice she taketh away grief. She is fairer than a bud, or than a leaf. Christ have her well in keeping, of His grace, And make her holy and beloved, like Him!
Jacopo da Lentino, 1250
Translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
No one noticed the child.
He had been left in a small boat which now sailed out towards the lagoon, following nothing but the slap and tide of each narrow canal.
It was Ascension Day in the year twelve hundred and ninety-five, and the people of Venice were parading through the streets, hoisting crimson pennants and bright-yellow banners in celebration. Tailors dressed in white tunics with crimson stars, weavers in silver cloth tippets, and cotton spinners in cloaks of fustian mingled with blacksmiths, carpenters, butchers, and bakers, singing and shouting their way towards the Piazza San Marco.
The square was filled with showmen, swindlers, soothsayers, and charlatans; jesters, jugglers, prophets, and priests. Alchemists cried out that scrapings of amber