[Illustration: _Leonardo rode behind his father, turning his head from side to side so as not to miss a thing._] The party was now making its way past the booths of hundreds of shops, past magnificent palaces built by wealthy merchants, and across squares filled with the produce from hundreds of farms. Every now and then, Leonardo caught a glimpse of the cathedral dome, one of the architectural marvels of its day. He had seen the cathedral with its bell tower and also the towering spire of the Palazzo della Signoria—which means the Palace of the Lords—from a hill as they approached the city. This palace still stands and today it is called the Palazzo Vecchio or Old Palace. But now these sights were lost to view in the midst of the narrow streets, other churches, flags, and the lines of washing that seemed to hang everywhere. Frequently, Piero’s party was pressed against a wall as a procession shoved its way through a street. Sometimes it was by armed horsemen escorting a rich banker to some appointment; other times it was a file of cowled monks observing some saint’s day and carrying huge wax candles before them. After they had crossed the magnificent square of the Signoria, in front of the Palace of the same name, Piero leaned down from his horse and asked a blacksmith where Verrochio’s studio might be. The man shouted above the din of clanging hammers: “Everybody knows that shop, Signor—it’s down that street and to the right! You can’t miss it—ask anybody!” The man was right, for the workshop of Verrochio was not hard to find. Verrochio was considered one of Florence’s finest artists and everybody knew of him. He was a short, broad-shouldered man of thirty-two with a round face, shrewd eyes, a thin mouth and dark curly hair that reached almost to his shoulders. In his workshop were two other apprentices—young Pietro Perugino, who was six years older than Leonardo, and Lorenzo di Credi, a boy of eight. They all lived in the house together and, after Leonardo was shown where he would sleep and had put away the few things he had brought with him from Vinci, he was taken to the place where he would work. Verrochio, whose real name was Andrea di Michele di Francesco de’ Cioni, had taken the name of his teacher, a renowned goldsmith, as was the custom in the shops at that time. Verrochio himself was a skilled goldsmith. But to be an artist and to have your own workshop in the year 1467 meant being a specialist in many things. Into Verrochio’s place came a great variety of artistic work—painting pictures, sculpting and architecture, goldsmithing, designing and making armor, creating decorated furniture, designing mechanical toys, and even preparing stage scenery.