Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 3, 2025
"Do you still follow the trade of arms?" "I think," Filippo interposed, "that our Excellency is in some error. This gentleman is Lazzaro Biancomonte, a poet of whom Italy will one day be proud, despite the fact that for a time he acted as the Lord Giovanni Sforza's Fool." Ramiro looked at his interlocutor, as the mastiff may look at the lap dog. He grunted, and blew out his cheeks.
"Madonna mia," I cried, "bethink you of what you say. You are the noble lady of Santafior, and I " "No more of this," she interrupted me. "You are Lazzaro Biancomonte, of patrician birth, no matter to what odd shifts a cruel fortune may have driven you. Will you take me?" She had my face between her palms, and she forced my glance to meet her own saintly eyes.
When you have done your errand come you back to me, and you shall have employment better suited to one who bears the name of Biancomonte." "You may depend upon me in this, my lord," I promised gravely. "I shall not fail you." "It is well" said he; and those wondrous eyes of his rested again upon my face. "How soon can you set out?" "At once, my lord.
That winter adventure betwixt Cagli and Pesaro was a link that bound us together, and caused her to see under my motley and my masking smile the true Lazzaro Biancomonte whom for a little season she had known. And when we were alone it had become her wont to call me Lazzaro, leaving that other name that they had given me for use when others were at hand.
But it is purely adventitious, for noble though you may be, Madonna Paola, you are wedding one who seems no less noble at heart, whatever the parts he may have played in life." He smiled inscrutably, as he added: "I have in mind that you once sought service with me Messer Biancomonte, and if a martial life allures you still, I'll make you lord of something better far than Biancomonte."
"My sister tells me," he said in greeting, "that you are willing to take service under me, Messer Biancomonte." "Such was the hope that guided me to Rome, Most Excellent," I answered him. Surprise flashed into his eyes, and was gone as quickly as it had come. His thin lips parted in a smile, whose meaning was inscrutable.
They say he was a passionate man, and such indeed I do believe him to have been; but even in the hottest frenzy of rage, outwardly he was ever the same icily cold and tranquil. And this, no doubt, was the thing that made him terrible. "Presently, Madonna," he pursued, "I shall ask you to tell me how it chanced that, having saved you, Messer Biancomonte did not bear you to your brother's house.
"Body of Bacchus!" he roared. "Is it truly you, Boccadoro?" "They call me Biancomonte now, Magnificent," I answered him. But my tone was respectful, for it could profit me nothing to incense him. "A fig for what they call you," he snapped contemptuously. "Whence are you?" "From Pesaro," I answered truthfully. "From Pesaro? But you are travelling towards it." "True.
Again he turned to Madonna. "Madonna Paola, may I conduct you hence? Things may perhaps occur which it is not seemly your gentle eyes should witness. Messer Biancomonte, attend us." Now, in spite of all that Ramiro had made me suffer, I should have been loath to have remained and witnessed his examination. That they would torture him was now inevitable. His chance of answering freely was gone.
"I deplore your end, Lazzaro Biancomonte," said he slowly, "for you are a brave man, and brave men are rare. You were worthy of better things, but you chose to cross swords with Ramiro del' Orca, and you have got your death-blow. May God have mercy on your soul." "I am praying," said I, "for just so much mercy as you shall have justice. If my prayer is heard, I should be well-content."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking