When my enemies perceived that my shop was closed, they lost no
opportunity of taunting and reviling those servants and friends of mine
who came to visit me in prison. It happened on one occasion that
Ascanio, who came twice a day to visit me, asked to have a jacket cut
out for him from a blue silk vest of mine I never used. I had only worn
it once, on the occasion when I walked in procession. I replied that
these were not the times nor was I in the place to wear such clothes.
The young man took my refusal of this miserable vest so ill that he told
me he wanted to go home to Tagliacozzo. All in a rage, I answered that
he could not please me better than by taking himself off; and he swore
with passion that he would never show his face to me again. When these
words passed between us, we were walking round the keep of the castle.
It happened that the castellan was also taking the air there; so just
when we met his lordship Ascanio said: “I am going away; farewell for
ever!” I added: “For ever, is my wish too; and thus in sooth shall it
be. I shall tell the sentinels not to let you pass again!” Then, turning
to the castellan, I begged him with all my heart to order the guards to
keep Ascanio out, adding: “This little peasant comes here to add to my
great trouble; I entreat you, therefore, my lord, not to let him enter
any more.” The castellan was much grieved, because he knew him to be a
lad of marvellous talents; he was, moreover, so fair a person that every
one who once set eyes on him seemed bound to love him beyond measure.
The boy went away weeping. That day he had with him a small scimitar,
which it was at times his wont to carry hidden beneath his clothes.
Leaving the castle then, and having his face wet with tears, he chanced
to meet two of my chief enemies, Jeronimo the Perugian, [2] and a
certain Michele, goldsmiths both of them. Michele, being Jeronimo’s
friend and Ascanio’s enemy, called out: “What is Ascanio crying for?
Perhaps his father is dead; I mean that father in the castle!” Ascanio
answered on the instant: “He is alive, but you shall die this minute.”
Then, raising his hand, he struck two blows with the scimitar, both at
the fellow’s head; the first felled him to earth, the second lopped
three fingers off his right hand, though it was aimed at his head. He
lay there like a dead man. The matter was at once reported to the Pope,
who cried in a great fury: “Since the King wants him to be tried, go and
give him three days to prepare his defence!” So they came, and executed
the commission which the Pope had given them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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