When Leonardo was about eleven, young Albiera died, leaving a darkened and saddened house. Two years later his father married another girl by the name of Francesca Lanfredini. Although laughter and song soon replaced the grief, Leonardo never forgot the love of his first stepmother. Also in the house lived Antonio, his grandfather, who was eighty-five, his grandmother, his uncle Allessandro Amadori and family, and, best of all, his uncle Francesco. The da Vincis, who could trace their beginnings in the town back to the thirteenth century, had always been respected lawyers and landowners. Because Uncle Francesco was neither a lawyer nor a great landowner, the people of the town said he did nothing; but he tended the family vineyards, and, to the delight of Leonardo, he raised his own silkworms. As Leonardo entered the main gate, he noticed that the oil lamps were being lit above the stalls of the marketplace, and the lively confusion of the last hours of business was in full swing. People nodded and smiled to him, for as a boy of fifteen he was already a striking figure. He was tall with long, auburn hair falling to his shoulders and his face was so charming that it was frequently compared to those of the angels painted in the chapels of the church. The music of his lute, the sound of his voice, and the gentleness of his person were such that all hearts and doors were open to him. Tonight, however, Leonardo avoided the usual invitations to stop and chat. His father would be back from Florence; he had been going there more and more frequently as his fame as a lawyer grew. Now Leonardo was thinking that he had almost finished the assignment his father, half jokingly, had given him many weeks ago—so many weeks ago that he was sure his father had forgotten about it. At that time a peasant, whose skill in providing fish and game for the table of Piero’s big household was greatly appreciated, had asked a favor of him. This man had a round, wooden shield cut from a fig tree and he had asked Piero to have a design painted on it for him in Florence. Piero, who had noticed the sketches his son was making of plants, rock formations, and scenes in his wanderings about the countryside, decided to test his son’s ability and gave the shield to the boy. In the secrecy of his room, into which no one was allowed, Leonardo had smoothed and prepared the wood, and on it he was painting a monster.