_'Con tua promesse, et tua false parole,_
_Con falsi risi, et con vago sembiante,_
_Donna, menato hai il tuo fidele amante.'_
* * * * *
_Those promises of thine, and those false words,_
_Those traitor smiles, and that inconstant seeming,_
_Lady, with these thou'st led astray thy faithful lover.__
They were Lorenzo's own lines, and he was delighted that I should quote
them, but still the pleasure was not too great, and I saw that it must
be subtle flattery indeed that should turn his head.
'You have the spirit of a courtier, Messer Filippo,' he said in reply to
my quotation. 'You are wasted on liberty!'
'It is in the air in Florence--one breathes it in through every pore.'
'What, liberty?'
'No; the spirit of the courtier.'
Lorenzo looked at me sharply, then at Pico, repressing a smile at my
sarcasm.
'Well, about your business from Forli?' he said; but when I began
explaining the transaction he interrupted me. 'Oh, all that you can
arrange with my secretaries. Tell me what is going on in the town. There
have been rumours of disturbance.'