That done, he came forward to impart the ominous news
which one of his riders had brought him at the gallop
from the Porta Romana.
A party of some fifty men, commanded by one of Cesare’s
captains, had ridden on in advance of the main army
to call upon Pesaro to yield to the forces of the
Church. And the people, without hesitation, had
butchered the guard and thrown wide the gates, inviting
the enemy to enter the town and seize the Castle.
And to the end that this might be the better achieved,
a hundred or so had traitorously taken up arms, and
were pressing forward to support the little company
that came, with such contemptuous daring, to storm
our fortress and prepare the way for Valentino.
It was a pretty situation this for the Lord Giovanni,
and here were fine opportunities for some brave acting
under the eyes of his adored Madonna Paola.
How would he bear himself now? I wondered.
He promised mighty well once the first shock of the
news was overcome.
“By God and His saints!” he roared, “though
it may be all that it is given me to do, I’ll
strike a blow to punish these dastards who have betrayed
me, and to crush the presumption of this captain who
attacks us with fifty men. It is a contempt
which he shall bitterly repent him.”
Then he thundered to Giacomo to marshal his men, and
he called upon those of his courtiers who were knights
to put on their armour that they might support him.
Lastly he bade a page go help him to arm, that he
might lead his little force in person.
I saw Madonna Paola’s eyes gleam with a sudden
light of admiration, and I guessed that in the matter
of Giovanni’s valour her opinions were undergoing
the same change as the verses had caused them to undergo
in the matter of his intellect.
Myself, I was amazed. For here was a Lord Giovanni
I seemed never to have known, and I was eager to behold
the sequel to so fine a prologue.
THE FOOL-AT-ARMS
That valorous bearing that the Lord Giovanni showed
whilst, with Madonna Paola’s glance upon him,
his fear of seeming afraid was greater than his actual
fear of our assailants, he cast aside like a mantle
once he was within the walls of his Castle, and under
the eyes of none save the page and myself, for I followed
idly at a respectful distance.
He stood irresolute and livid of countenance, his
eagerness to arm and to lead his mercenaries and his
knights all departed out of him. It was that
curiosity of mine to see the sequel to his stout words
that had led me to follow him, and what I saw was,
after all, no more than I might have looked for—the
proof that his big talk of sallying forth to battle
was but so much acting. Yet it must have been
acting of such a quality as to have deceived even
his very self.
Now, however, by the main steps, he halted in the
cool gloom of the gallery, and I saw that fear had
caught his heart in an icy grip and was squeezing
it empty. In his irresolution he turned about,
and his gloomy eye fell upon me loitering in the porch.
At that he turned to the page who followed in obedience
to his command.
