I said to Felice: “Assuredly we shall hear to-morrow that something of vast importance has happened in Florence.” As we rode into Rome, the darkness was extreme; and when we came near the Banchi and our own house, my little horse was going in an amble at a furious speed. Now that day they had thrown a heap of plaster and broken tiles in the middle of the road, which neither my horse nor myself perceived. In his fiery pace the beast ran up it; but on coming down upon the other side he turned a complete somersault. He had his head between his legs, and it was only through the power of God himself that I escaped unhurt. The noise we made brought the neighbours out with lights; but I had already jumped to my feet; and so, without remounting, I ran home, laughing to have come unhurt out of an accident enough to break my neck. On entering the house, I found some friends of mine there, to whom, while we were supping together, I related the adventures of the day’s chase and the diabolical apparition of the fiery beam which we had seen. They exclaimed: “What shall we hear to-morrow which this portent has announced?” I answered: “Some revolution must certainly have occurred in Florence.” So we supped agreeably; and late the next day there came the news to Rome of Duke Alessandro’s death. [1] Upon this many of my acquaintances came to me and said: “You were right in conjecturing that something of great importance had happened at Florence.” Just then Francesco Soderini appeared jogging along upon a wretched mule he had, and laughing all the way like a madman. He said to me: “This is the reverse of that vile tyrant’s medal which your Lorenzino de’ Medici promised you.” Then he added: “You wanted to immortalise the dukes for us; but we mean to have no more dukes;” and thereupon he jeered me, as though I had been the captain of the factions which make dukes. Meanwhile a certain Baccio Bettini, [2] who had an ugly big head like a bushel, came up and began to banter me in the same way about dukes, calling out: “We have dis-duked them, and won’t have any more of them; and you were for making them immortal for us!” with many other tiresome quips of the same kind. I lost my patience at this nonsense, and said to them: “You blockheads! I am a poor goldsmith, who serve whoever pays me; and you are jeering me as though I were a party-leader. However, this shall not make me cast in your teeth the insatiable greediness, idiotcy, and good-for-nothingness of your predecessors. But this one answer I will make to all your silly railleries; that before two or three days at the longest have passed by, you will have another duke, much worse perhaps than he who now has left you.” [3]