WHEN I returned to bed, I felt so agitated that I could not get to sleep
again. My mind was made up to let blood as soon as day broke. However, I
asked advice of Messer Gaddi, and he referred to a wretched
doctor-fellow he employed, [1] who asked me if I had been frightened.
Now, just consider what a judicious doctor this was, after I had
narrated an occurrence of that gravity, to ask me such a question! He
was an empty fribbler, who kept perpetually laughing about nothing at
all. Simpering and sniggering, then, he bade me drink a good cup of
Greek wine, keep my spirits up, and not be frightened. Messer Giovanni,
however, said: “Master, a man of bronze or marble might be frightened in
such circumstances. How much more one of flesh and blood!” The quack
responded: “Monsignor, we are not all made after the same pattern; this
fellow is no man of bronze or marble, but of pure iron.” Then he gave
one of his meaningless laughs, and putting his fingers on my wrist,
said: “Feel here; this is not a man’s pulse, but a lion’s or a
dragon’s.” At this, I, whose blood was thumping in my veins, probably
far beyond anything which that fool of a doctor had learned from his
Hippocrates or Galen, knew at once how serious was my situation; yet
wishing not to add to my uneasiness and to the harm I had already taken,
I made show of being in good spirits. While this was happening, Messer
Giovanni had ordered dinner, and we all of us sat down to eat in
company. I remembered that Messer Lodovico da Fano, Messer Antonio
Allegretti, Messer Giovanni Greco, all of them men of the finest
scholarship, and Messer Annibal Caro, who was then quite young, were
present. At table the conversation turned entirely upon my act of
daring. They insisted on hearing the whole story over and over again
from my apprentice Cencio, who was a youth of superlative talent,
bravery, and extreme personal beauty. Each time that he described my
truculent behaviour, throwing himself into the attitudes I had assumed,
and repeating the words which I had used, he called up some fresh detail
to my memory. They kept asking him if he had been afraid; to which he
answered that they ought to ask me if I had been afraid, because he felt
precisely the same as I had.
All this chattering grew irksome to me; and since I still felt strongly
agitated, I rose at last from table, saying that I wanted to go and get
new clothes of blue silk and stuff for him and me; adding that I meant
to walk in procession after four days at the feast of Our Lady, and
meant Cencio to carry a white lighted torch on the occasion. Accordingly
I took my leave, and had the blue cloth cut, together with a handsome
jacket of blue sarcenet and a little doublet of the same; and I had a
similar jacket and waistcoat made for Cencio.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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