The Shame of Motley: being the memoir of certain transactions in the life of Lazzaro Biancomonte, of Biancomonte, sometime fool of the court of PesaroSabatini, Rafael
History
The Shame of Motley: being the memoir of certain transactions in the life of Lazzaro Biancomonte, of Biancomonte, sometime fool of the court of Pesaro
“‘My answer,’ quoth he, ‘is that you get you back to the place from
whence you came, and render thanks to God on your knees every morning
of the life I am sparing you that Giovanni Sforza is more entertained
than affronted by your frenzy.’
“At his words I went crimson from chin to brow.
“‘Do you disdain me?’ I questioned, choking with rage. He turned, with
a shrug and a laugh, and bade one of his men to give this cavalier his
glove, and conduct him from the castle. Several that had stood at hand
made shift to obey him, whereat I fell into such a blind, unreasoning
fury that incontinently I drew my sword, and laid about me. They were
many, I was but one; and they were not long in overpowering me and
dragging me from my horse.
“They bound me fast, and Giovanni bade them let me have a priest, then
get me hanged without delay. Had he done that, the world being as it
is, perhaps none could blame him. But he elected to spare my life, yet
on such terms as I could never have accepted had it not been for the
consideration of my poor widowed mother, whom I had left in the hills
of Biancomonte whilst I went forth to seek my fortune—such was the tale
I had told her. I was her sole support, her only hope in life; and my
death must have been her own, if not from grief, why, then from very
want. The thought of that poor old woman crushed my spirit as I sat in
durance waiting for my end, and when the priest came, whom they had
sent to shrive me, he found me weeping, which he took to argue a
contrite heart. He bore the tale of it to Giovanni, and the Lord of
Pesaro came to visit me in consequence, and found me sorely changed
from my furious mood of some hours earlier.
“I was a very coward, I own; but it was for my mother’s sake. If I
feared death, it was because I bethought me of what it must mean to
her.”
“At sight of Giovanni I cast myself at his feet, and with tears in my
eyes and in heartrending tones, bespeaking a humility as great as had
been my erstwhile arrogance, I begged my life of him. I told him the
truth—that for myself I was not afraid to die, but that I had a mother
in the hills who was dependent on me, and who must starve if I were
thus cut off.
“He watched me with his moody eyes, a saturnine smile about his lips.
Then of a sudden he shook with a silent mirth, whose evil, malicious
depth I was far indeed from suspecting. He asked me would I take solemn
oath that if he spared my life I would never again raise my hand
against him. That oath I took with a greediness born of my fear of the
death that was impending.
“‘You have been wise,’ said he,’ and you shall have your life on one
condition—that you devote it to my service.’
“‘Even that will I do,’ I answered readily. He turned to an attendant,
and ordered him to go fetch a suit of motley. No word passed between us
until that man returned with those garish garments. Then Giovanni
smiled on me in his mocking, infernal way.
“‘Not that,’ I cried, guessing his purpose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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