LITMIR.BIZ

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group broke up, and Checco advanced to the further end of the hall, with Ercole Piacentini and several other gentlemen. Matteo and I lingered where we were. There was a rustle, and the Count and Countess appeared attended by their suite.

      First of all my eyes were attracted to Caterina; she was wonderfully beautiful. A tall, well-made woman, holding herself proudly, her head poised on the neck like a statue.

      'One would think she was a king's daughter!' said Matteo, looking at her with astonishment.

      'It is almost Francesco's face,' I said.

      We both had an immense admiration for Francesco Sforza, the King of Condottieri, who had raised himself from a soldier of fortune to the proudest duchy in the world. And Caterina, his natural daughter, had the same clear, strong features, the strong piercing eyes, but instead of the Sforza's pock-marked skin, she had a complexion of rare delicacy and softness; and afterwards she proved that she had inherited her father's courage as well as his appearance.... She was dressed in a gorgeous robe of silver cloth, glittering and shimmering as she walked, and her hair was done in her favourite manner, intertwined with gold and silver threads; but the wonderful chestnut outshone the brilliant metals, seeming to lend them beauty rather than to borrow it. I heard her speak, and her voice was low and full like a man's.

      Matteo and I stood looking at her for a minute; then we both broke out 'Per Bacco, she is beautiful!'

      I began thinking of the fairy stories I had heard of Caterina at Rome, where she had enchanted everyone by her loveliness; and Sixtus had squandered the riches of the Church to satisfy her whims and fancies: banquets, balls, pageants and gorgeous ceremonies; the ancient city had run red with wine and mad with delight of her beauty.

      Suddenly Matteo said to me, 'Look at Girolamo!'

      I lifted my eyes, and saw him standing quite close to me—a tall man, muscular and strong, with big heavy face, and prominent jaw bones, the nose long and hooked, small keen eyes, very mobile. His skin was unpleasant, red and coarse; like his wife, he was dressed with great magnificence.

      'One sees the sailor grandfather in him,' I said, remembering that Sixtus's father, the founder of the family, was a common sailor at Rovese.

      He was talking to Checco, who was apparently speaking to him of us, for he turned and stepped forward to Matteo.

      'The prodigal has returned,' he said. 'We will not fail to kill the fatted calf. But this time you must stay with us, Matteo; we can give you service as well as the Duke of Calabria.'

      Matteo smiled grimly; and the Count turned to me.

      'Checco has told me of you also, sir; but I fear there is no chance of keeping you, you are but a bird of passage—still, I hope you will let us make you welcome at the Palace.'

      All the time he was speaking his eyes kept moving rapidly up and down, all round me, and I felt he was taking in my whole person.... After these few words he smiled, a harsh, mechanical smile, meant to be gracious, and with a courteous bow moved on. I turned to Matteo and saw him looking after the Count very sourly.

      'What is it,' I asked.

      'He is devilish condescending,' he answered. 'When last I was here it was hail fellow, well met, but, good God! he's put on airs since then!'

      'Your cousin said something to the same effect,' I remarked.

      'Yes, I understand what he meant now.'

      We strolled round the room, looking at the people and talking.

      'Look,' I said, 'there's a handsome woman!' pointing to a voluptuous beauty, a massive creature, full-brested and high-coloured.

      'Your eye is drawn to a handsome woman like steel to a magnet, Filippo,' answered Matteo, laughing.

      'Introduce me,' I said, 'if she is not ferocious.'

      'By no means; and she has probably already fixed her eyes upon you. But she is wife to Ercole Piacentini.'

      'I don't care. I mean to kill the man afterwards; but that is no reason why I should not make myself pleasant to his spouse.'

      'You will do her a service in both ways,' he replied; and, going up to her, 'Claudia,' he said, 'your fatal eyes have transfixed another heart.'

      Her sensual lips broke into a smile.

      'Have they that power?' She fixed them on me, and made room on the couch on which she was sitting. Neither Matteo nor I were slow to take the hint, for I took my place and he his leave. 'I wonder you have not already fallen victim to Madonna Giulia,' said Claudia, looking languorously at me, and glancing over to the other lady.

      'One does not worship the moon when the sun is shining,' I replied politely.

      'Giulia is more like the sun, for she gathers all men in her embrace. I am more modest.'

      I understood that the rival beauties were not good friends.

      'You boast that you are cruel,' I replied. She did not answer, but sighed deeply, smiling, and fixed on me her great, liquid eyes.

      'Oh, there is my husband.' I looked up and saw the great Ercole glaring viciously at me. I laughed within myself.

      'He must be very jealous of so beautiful a wife?' I asked.

      'He torments me to death.'

      Under these circumstances I thought I would pursue my advantage; I pressed closer to her.

      'I can understand it: the first moment I saw you, I felt my head whirl.'

      She gave me a very long glance from beneath her eyelashes. I seized her hand.

      'Those eyes!' I said, looking into them fervently.

      'Ah!' she sighed again.

      'Madam,' said a pageboy, coming up to her, 'Messer Piacentini begs that you will come to him.'

      She gave a little cry of annoyance.

      'My husband!' Then, rising from her seat, she turned to me, holding out her hand; I immediately offered my arm, and we solemnly crossed the room to Ercole Piacentini. Here she bowed very graciously to me, and I smiled on the happy husband with the utmost sweetness, while he looked very grim and took not the faintest notice of me; then I marched off, feeling particularly pleased with myself.

      The Count and Countess were on the point of taking their departure: they were followed by Ercole and his wife; the remaining guests soon went, and in a little while there were left only Matteo and myself, two other men and Checco.

      III

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       Checco led us to a smaller room, at some distance from the great hall of the reception; then, turning to a man I did not know, he said, 'Did you hear the Piacentini?'

      'Yes!' he answered; and for a moment they looked at one another silently.

      'He would not have been so bold without good cause,' added the man.

      I was told that his name was Lodovico Pansecchi, and that he was a soldier in the Count's pay.

      Checco turned round and looked at me sharply. Matteo understood what he meant, and said, 'Have no fear of Filippo; he is as safe as myself.'

      Checco nodded, and made a sign to a youth, who immediately rose and carefully closed the door. We sat still for a while; then Checco stood up and said impatiently, 'I cannot understand it.' He walked up and down the room, stopping at last in front of me.

      'You had never seen that man before?'

      'Never!' I answered.

      'The quarrel was brought on solely by Ercole himself,' said the youth, whom I found to be Alessandro Moratini, a brother of Giulia dall' Aste.

      'I know,' said Checco, 'but he would

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