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Updated: June 22, 2025
"I am Agostino d'Anguissola, Lord of Mondolfo and..." "Pass over your titles," he boomed. "The Holy Office takes no account of worldly rank. What is your age?" "I am in my twenty-first year." "Benedicamus Dominum," he commented, though I could not grasp the appositeness of the comment. "You stand accused, Agostino d'Anguissola, of sacrilege and of defiling holy things. What have you to say?
I have prayed that when the attack was made and revolt was carried into the Citadel of Piacenza, Cosimo d'Anguissola might stand at his usual post beside the Duke and might fall with him. Surely justice demanded it!" she cried out. "God's justice, as well as man's.
"Agostino d'Anguissola!" There were whole tomes of tender meaning in those syllables, so that hearing her utter them I seemed to learn all that was in her heart. And then her shining whiteness suggested to me the name that must be hers. "Bianca!" I cried, and in my turn held out my arms and made as if to advance towards her.
I was the very son of Giovanni d'Anguissola. "What force attends the captain?" I inquired. "He has six mounted men with him," replied Rinolfo. "In that case," I answered, "you will bid him begone in my name." "And if he should not go?" was Rinolfo's impudent question. "You will tell him that I will drive him hence him and his braves.
He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "There is no possibility of mistake. I am just come from an interview with the Duke and his fine captain. Together they sought me out to ask my daughter's hand for Cosimo d'Anguissola." "And you?" I cried, for this thrust aside my every doubt. "And I declined the honour," he answered sternly, rising in his agitation.
"But they had worse indignities for me, Agostino. They mocked me with a reminder that Giovanni d'Anguissola had been my firmest friend. They told me they knew it to have been my intention that my daughter should become the Lady of Mondolfo, and to cement the friendship by making one State of Pagliano, Mondolfo and Carmina.
I knew for they had told me that it had been that cavalier who had visited me, that man whose name was Ettore de' Cavalcanti, who had borne news to them of one who was strangely like what Giovanni d'Anguissola had been. But Pagliano had never yet been mentioned. "Where is Pagliano?" I asked. "In Lombardy in the Milanes," replied Galeotto. "It is the home of Cavalcanti."
My spirit quailed under those last words; and yet I felt an immense relief at the same time, as if some overwhelming burden had been lifted from me. "I am indeed unworthy," I said. "It is not your unworthiness that I am considering, my son, but your nature. The world calls you over-strongly. It is not for nothing that you are the child of Giovanni d'Anguissola.
Then he smote it sharply with his right hand. "This document is not in order," he announced. "How?" quoth Cosimo, and he smiled again, reassured completely by now, convinced that here was no more than a minor quibble of the law. "You are here described as Cosimo d'Anguissola, Lord of Mondolfo and Carmina. These titles are not yours." The blood stirred faintly in Cosimo's cheeks.
"But have I not already explained..." "It sets forth here," cut in Galeotto with assurance, "that the fief of Mondolfo and Carmina are confiscated from Agostino d'Anguissola.
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