WHEN I saw how rigorously this affair was prosecuted, I began to think
of my own concerns, and said: “Supposing another of these storms should
rise, and the man should lose confidence in me, I should then be under
no obligation to him, and might wish to use my wits a little, which
would certainly work their end better than those of that rascally
friar.” So I began to have new sheets of a coarse fabric brought me, and
did not send the dirty ones away. When my servants asked for them, I
bade them hold their tongues, saying I had given the sheets to some of
those poor soldiers; and if the matter came to knowledge, the wretched
fellows ran risk of the galleys. This made my young men and attendants,
especially Felice, keep the secret of the sheets in all loyalty. I
meanwhile set myself to emptying a straw mattress, the stuffing of which
I burned, having a chimney in my prison. Out of the sheets I cut strips,
the third of a cubit in breadth; and when I had made enough in my
opinion to clear the great height of the central keep of Sant’ Angelo, I
told my servants that I had given away what I wanted; they must now
bring me others of a finer fabric, and I would always send back the
dirty ones. This affair was presently forgotten.
Now my workpeople and serving-men were obliged to close my shop at the
order of the Cardinals Santi Quattro [1] and Cornaro, who told me openly
that the Pope would not hear of setting me at large, and that the great
favours shown me by King Francis had done far more harm that good. It
seems that the last words spoken from the King by Monsignor di Morluc
had been to this effect, namely, that the Pope ought to hand me over to
the ordinary judges of the court; if I had done wrong, he could chastise
me; but otherwise, it was but reason that he should set me at liberty.
This message so irritated the Pope that he made his mind up to keep me a
prisoner for life. At the same time, the castellan most certainly did
his utmost to assist me.
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.
The excellent castellan went off upon the spot to his Holiness, and
informed him that I was no accomplice in the matter, and that I had sent
Ascanio about his business. So ably did he plead my cause that he saved
my life from this impending tempest. Ascanio meanwhile escaped to
Tagliacozzo, to his home there, whence he wrote begging a thousand times
my pardon, and acknowledging his wrong in adding troubles to my grave
disaster; but protesting that if through God’s grace I came out from the
prison, he meant never to abandon me. I let him understand that he must
mind his art, and that if God set me a large again I would certainly
recall him.
Note 1. Antonio Pucci, a Florentine, Cardinal de’ Quattro Santi Coronati.
Note 2. 'I. e.,' Girolamo Pascucci.