WHILE these things were happening, we were all at table; for that
morning we had dined more than an hour later than usual. On hearing the
commotion, one of the old man’s sons, the elder, rose from table to go
and look at the scuffle. He was called Giovanni; and I said to him: “For
Heaven’s sake, don’t go! In such matters one is always certain to lose,
while there is nothing to be gained.” His father spoke to like purpose:
“Pray, my son, don’t go!” But the lad, without heeding any one, ran down
the stairs. Reaching the Banchi, where the great scrimmage was, and
seeing Bertino lifted from the ground, he ran towards home, and met my
brother Cecchino on the way, who asked what was the matter. Though some
of the bystanders signed to Giovanni not to tell Cecchino, he cried out
like a madman how it was that Bertino Aldobrandi had been killed by the
guard. My poor brother gave vent to a bellow which might have been heard
ten miles away. Then he turned to Giovanni: “Ah me! but could you tell
me which of those men killed him for me?” [1] Giovanni said, yes, that
it was a man who had a big two-handed sword, with a blue feather in his
bonnet. My poor brother rushed ahead, and having recognised the homicide
by those signs, he threw himself with all his dash and spirit into the
middle of the band, and before his man could turn on guard, ran him
right through the guts, and with the sword’s hilt thrust him to the
ground. Then he turned upon the rest with such energy and daring, that
his one arm was on the point of putting the whole band to flight, had it
not been that, while wheeling round to strike an arquebusier, this man
fired in self-defence, and hit the brave unfortunate young fellow above
the knee of his right leg. While he lay stretched upon the ground, the
constables scrambled off in disorder as fast as they were able, lest a
pair to my brother should arrive upon the scene.
Noticing that the tumult was not subsiding, I too rose from the table,
and girding on my sword-for everybody wore one then-I went to the bridge
of Sant’ Agnolo, where I saw a group of several men assembled. On my
coming up and being recognised by some of them, they gave way before me,
and showed me what I least of all things wished to see, albeit I made
mighty haste to view the sight. On the instant I did not know Cecchino,
since he was wearing a different suit of clothes from that in which I
had lately seen him. Accordingly, he recognised me first, and said:
“Dearest brother, do not be upset by my grave accident; it is only what
might be expected in my profession: get me removed from here at once,
for I have but few hours to live.” They had acquainted me with the whole
event while he was speaking, in brief words befitting such occasion. So
I answered: “Brother, this is the greatest sorrow and the greatest trial
that could happen to me in the whole course of my life. But be of good
cheer; for before you lose sight of him who did the mischief, you shall
see yourself revenged by my hand.’ Our words on both sides were to the
purport, but of the shortest.
Note 1. 'Oimè, saprestimi tu dire che di quelli me I’ha morto?' The 'me'
is so emphatic, that, though it makes poor English, I have preserved it
in my version.