crimes had become intolerable, or one of those strange presentiments of coming fate which have affected many men as the hour of their destiny drew nigh, rendered Galeazzo less accessible, more suspicious and retired than before. He seldom came forth from his palace, was no longer seen on occasions of public ceremony, or in fêtes and festivals. There was, indeed, one day when he could hardly fail to show himself, and that was on St. Stephen's day--a day when, by immemorial custom, every one honours the first martyr by attending mass at the great church. That day they fixed upon for the execution of their design, and each was early in the church, with a dagger hidden in the sleeve of his gown. The world has called it a sacrilege; but they looked upon it as a holy and a righteous deed, sanctified by the justice of the cause, that the most sacred place could not be polluted by it. "In the mean time Galeazzo seemed to feel that the day and hour of retribution had arrived. He would fain have avoided it; he sought to have mass performed in the palace; he applied to a chaplain--to the Bishop of Como--but in all instances slight obstacles presented themselves, and in the end he determined to go to the Cathedral. One touch of human tenderness and feeling, the first for many a day, broke from him. He sent for his two children, took leave of them tenderly, and embraced them again and again. He then went forth; but the conspirators awaited him in the church; and hardly had he entered when three daggers were plunged into his breast and back. Each struck a second blow; and the monster who had inflicted torture, and death, and disgrace upon so many innocent fellow-creatures sank to the pavement, exclaiming, 'Sancta Maria!' "The three then rushed towards the street to call the people to arms; but Lampugnani stumbled, catching his feet in the long trains of the women who were already kneeling in the nave. As he fell he was killed by a Moor, one of Galeazzo's base retainers. My father was killed where he stood, and Olgiato escaped into the street only to find the people, on whom he trusted either dead to all sense of patriotism and justice, or stupified and surprised. Not a sword was drawn--not a hand was raised in answer to his cry, 'To arms!' and torture and the death of a criminal once more closed the career of a patriot. "I was an infant at that time, but in the days of Galeazzo Sforza infants were not spared, and the nurse who had me in her arms hurried forth, carrying me with her, ere the gates of the city could be closed, or the followers of the duke came to search and pillage our house. She took refuge in a neighbouring village, whence we were not long after carried to Florence, where the noble Lorenzo de Medici, after whom I had been baptized, received me as his child, and when he felt death approaching, sent me to the court of France to finish my education among my relatives there."