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 men had suffered sorely, but the brave Giacomo still held them
together, fired by the example that I set him, until in the end the day
was ours. Discouraged by the disabling of their captain, so soon as
they had gathered him up our opponents thought of nothing but retreat;
and retreat they did, hotly pursued by us, and never allowed to pause
or slacken rein until we had hurled them out of the town of Pesaro, to
get them back to Cesare Borgia with the tale of their ignominious
discomfiture.
CHAPTER X.
THE FALL OF PESARO
As we rode back through the town of Pesaro, some fifty men of the six
score that had sallied from the Castle a half-hour ago, we found the
streets well-nigh deserted, the rebellious citizens having fled back to
the shelter of their homes, like rats to their burrows in time of
peril.
As we advanced through the shambles that we had left about the Castle
gates, it occurred to me that within the courtyard a crowd would be
waiting to receive and welcome me, and it became necessary to devise
some means of avoiding this reception. I beckoned Giacomo to my side.
“Let it be given out that I will speak to no man until I have rendered
thanks to Heaven for this signal victory,” I muttered to the
unsuspecting Albanian. “Do you clear a way for me so soon a we are
within.”
He obeyed me so well that when the bridge had been let down, he
preceded me with a couple of his men and gently but firmly pressed back
those that would have approached—among the first of whom were Madonna
Paola and her brother.
“Way!” he shouted. “Make way for the High and Mighty Lord of Pesaro!”
Thus I passed through, my half-shattered visor sufficiently closed
still to conceal my face, and in this manner I gained the door of the
eastern wing and dismounted. Two or three attendants sprang forward,
ready to go with me that they might assist me to disarm. But I waved
them imperiously back, and mounted the stairs alone. Alone I crossed
the ante-chamber, and tapped at the door of the Lord Giovanni’s closet.
Instantly it opened, for he had watched my return and been awaiting me.
Hastily he drew me in and closed the door.
He was flushed with excitement and trembling like a leaf. Yet at the
sight that I presented he lost some of his high colour, and recoiled to
stare at my armour, battered, dinted, and splashed with browning
stains, which loudly proclaimed the fray through which I had been.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account