Leonardo is gentle, “it will tell me a story. I know already how it might work. I will have to be careful where I cut for your body will still be liquid. It will bleed. Because the heart has stopped it will not pump blood, but a pocket might get trapped and there might be a build up of pressure. The first place I will go will be your lungs, because sometimes air gets trapped, and you might breathe out."

Marcello is shocked out of his pain, “my lungs will still breathe?”

“No,” smiles Leonardo, “when you are dead your body is like a set of abandoned bellows, air gets trapped.”

“Life will be trapped in me?”

Salai glances at Leonardo who is unperturbed. Death is normal.

Leonardo smiles a teachers generous smile. “There will not be life in you. But trapped air might make your body breathe out. As this air rushes passed the vocal cords it can make the body groan. That is the way the body works. Your lungs are a machine. When the machine works without the master, it is disconcerting. Especially at night.”

Marcello understands although he refuses, deep down, to believe that the body is a machine. He keeps this to himself, that the body is the temple of the soul, for Leonardo is a learned man.

The old man’s pain becomes a winter freeze. He stiffens his body to the ice wind, “I have been to war. I have seen men survive the very worst injuries. Will my body be buried?”

“If you wish.”

“Yes I wish. Will God be able to fit me back together when the great judgement comes.”

Leonardo does not believe in God. He does not begrudge the man his faith, on the contrary, he recognises that for many, the vast majority, the need to have purpose in this life makes it bearable. The promise of something better once the drudgery ends makes it all endurable. He knows, too, that faith can bring peace in the midst of fear and comfort at the hour of death. He re-assures Marcello “I am sure that God will be able to give you a new body.”

The old man’s pain rises up into a fury “I do not want a new body. Mine is a good body. It has worked hard all its life.” Leonardo takes his hand, which calms him, a little twinkle appears in his eye “I would rather that my body could be renewed - it used to look good when I was young, I never had a problem. I didn’t like the cold of course, but then who does?” He smiles, “I can see you wish me to go. Nothing holds up a man quite like conversation.”

Leonardo is looking at the candle, noticing how much it has shrunk... “No really, take your time. I’ve got all night.”

The old man’s chest rises and falls. Rises and falls. “When my body dies what will happen?”

Leonardo creases his brow for a moment, “slowly the temperature will drop. You will probably be stiff in a couple of hours. While the body is stiff your flesh will not petrify. You will not decompose for thirty six hours.”

“Will that make it hard?”

Leonardo does not know quite what to say.

“Will that make it hard to take me apart?”

“A little stiff perhaps.”

Marcello grabs Leonardo’s hand, “when you get to my heart, please be gentle with it. It was in its time a good heart. It gave a lot. It wept, it toasted many ladies. It enjoyed the company of men. It loved a great deal. When you get there be kind to it. Will it still feel? I mean, can I feel after my death? I have heard it said that the body remains in spirit form long after the mortal body disappears. I have also heard it said that it is possible to bring the body back.”

Leonardo yawns. Salai looks at the floor.

Marcello goes on, “I heard this story of a saint in Spain who had only one leg. He went on a pilgrimage and slept a night in a church. When he awoke his leg had grown back. Unbelievable. And of course there is the story of Lazarus whom Christ brought back from the dead.” The old man’s face broadens into a toothless smile, “this would, I think, disappoint me... to come back with my body as it is now.”

Leonardo smiles.

Marcello’s age suddenly becomes very kind, “you have a good smile, son. I hope that when you cut me I do not groan, as you have described, and scare you. But then it might make a good tale - how the old man breathed after death - one last attempt at life - or perhaps God breathed in him one last time but it was too late for the great Leonardo da Vinci had taken too much apart, for in trying to understand he had destroyed.”

“I feel restless. My chest hurts, and I feel tired. You have a strange look in your eyes. I do not think that I could do what you are about to undertake - I am not sure if it is a natural thing that you do... Will you be able to bring me back... I feel cold.”

“I do not want my body scattered to the winds, Leonardo da Vinci. You put back what you take. If what you do is right then my soul will not suffer. Remember that Marcello the Beggar gave you his body so that he could die in a bed. That in his life he suffered but knew that death is the one moment when dignity must be found. When the priest comes you tell him. You put back what you take. Be diligent and do not waste the opportunity that I have sold to you.”

“Jesus, I am cold. I am trying to die. Take my hand. Don’t cut me until I am dead. What you do with my body after my death - that is your business. I will tell the creator I had no part in it. Shit. You know what is in the body; stop this. Make sure you don’t start without cleaning me. I have seen the mess the bowels make of the dead. Catch my soul... Catch my soul.”

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