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So it was to Falcone that fell the charge of that sweet burden. The last thing I remember was Cavalcanti's laugh, as, from the high ground we had mounted, he stopped to survey a ruddy glare above the city of Piacenza, where, in a vomit of sparks, Cosimo's fine palace was being consumed.
Among these I may here mention Gino Capponi's history of the Ciompi Rebellion, Giovanni Cavalcanti's memoirs of the period between 1420 and 1452, Leo Battista Alberti's narrative of Porcari's attempt upon the life of Nicholas V., Vespasiano's 'Biographies, and Poliziano's 'Essay on the Pazzi Conspiracy. Gino Capponi, born about 1350, was Prior in 1396, and Gonfalonier of Justice in 1401 and 1418; he died in 1421.
It was then, especially while conversing with Madame Danglars, and apparently absorbed by the charm of the conversation, that the count noticed M. Andrea Cavalcanti's solicitude, his manner of listening to the music at the door he dared not pass, and of manifesting his admiration. The banker soon returned. His first look was certainly directed towards Monte Cristo, but the second was for Andrea.
At this drolling challenge most of the spectators began to laugh, and the laughter ran through the ranks of Cavalcanti's adherents, and even found some echo, albeit soon stifled, among Bardi's men. But Simone saw no laughter in the matter. "You are a fool!" he fumed.
"What is it?" said Albert; "arranging your papers, apparently." "My papers, thank God, no, my papers are all in capital order, because I have none; but M. Cavalcanti's." "M. Cavalcanti's?" asked Beauchamp. "Yes; do you not know that this is a young man whom the count is introducing?" said Morcerf.
"But first, to spare me repetitions, let us have Agostino here. Where is he?" The look on Cavalcanti's face caused Galeotto to throw up his head like a spirited animal that scents danger. "Where is he?" he repeated, and old Falcone's fingers fell idle upon the buckle on which they were engaged. Cavalcanti's answer was a groan.
As we were ambling by a forest path, Galeotto abruptly turned to me, Falcone at the time being some little way in advance of us, and startled me by his words. "Cavalcanti's daughter seemed to move you strangely, Agostino," he said, and watched me turn pale under his keen glance. In my confusion more or less at random "What should Cavalcanti's daughter be to me?" I asked.
"You reprobate, Formica!" shouted Pasquale, leaping to his feet and shaking his doubled fist at the stage. Toricelli and Cavalcanti's stern, reproving glances bade him sit still and keep quiet.
This memorial contains nothing but what was imparted to me by the Lord of Pagliano on his death-bed, in the presence of his confessor." "We cannot admit the confessor," Gonzaga thrust in. "Give me leave, your excellency. It was not in his quality as confessor that Fra Gervasio heard the dying man depone. Cavalcanti's confession followed upon that.
Six mounted men in black were drawn up there, and a little in the foreground a seventh, in a corselet of blackened steel and with a steel cap upon his head, stood by his horse in conversation with Farnese. In attendance upon the Duke were Cosimo and some three of his gentlemen. We halted upon the steps, and I felt Cavalcanti's hand suddenly tighten upon my arm. "What is it?"
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