taxation which they supposed went only to provide for the limitless luxury of the Court. Many citizens were hereditary Guelfs and foes of the Sforza. The idea of rebellion was familiar enough in every North Italian city, and the conspirators received so much sympathy and so many promises of adherence that the excited vision of young Olgiati pictured the whole city awaiting the signal of the great deed to rise and set him and his fellows at the head of a Republic as noble as those of antiquity. Day and night Lampugnano’s house was crowded with enthusiasts for liberty. All preparations were made for the rising, deputies were appointed to ensure the safety of the city in the confusion which was sure to follow the overthrow of the government, and the day and the particulars of the great act of judgment on the tyrant were carefully arranged. On St. Thomas Day (1476), Duke Galeazzo entered early in the morning into his capital, after a short victorious campaign against the encroachments of Burgundy in the mountains of Savoy. Let it be remembered of him that his last deed was thus to beat back invaders of Italy. As he rode to Milan from his Castle of Abbiategrasso, in the bitter cold which had numbed the streams and fogged the air, three ravens slowly rose and flew across his path, one after the other, uttering hoarse croaks. The Duke seized a gun and fired at these evil augurs, and was half-minded to turn back. He went forward, however, but a heavy presentiment of ill had fallen on his soul. As he rode in, welcomed by the nobles who had thronged the city to do him homage, the conspirators noted his heavy countenance, and knew that the hour was at hand. Instead of mirth he carried gloom into the Castle, all prepared for his coming, and though it was the season of joy, he ordered the ornaments of the chapel to be draped in black, and bade the Flemish priest, Cordiero and his thirty fellow-singers from beyond the mountains, chant every day in the Mass a verse from the Office of the Dead. Nevertheless the great Christmas festivities took place as usual, and the tall figure of the Prince, robed to the feet in crimson damask, and accompanied by the fair Duchess and a crowd of nobles, stalked gesticulating though the splendid chambers of the Castello, vaunting, in the midst of a strange and mournful oppression, his own magnificence, and the glory and enduring strength of his House.