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Updated: June 22, 2025
It proved to be a summons from Ferrante Gonzaga to appear upon the morrow before the Imperial Court which would sit in the Communal Palace of Piacenza to deliver judgment upon an indictment laid against me by Cosimo d'Anguissola. I looked at the herald, hesitation in my mind and glance. He held out a second letter. "This, my lord, I was asked by favour to deliver to you also."
His face flushed scarlet. The habit of obedience may have been strong in Falcone too; but it was obedience to men; with women he had never had much to do, old warrior though he was. Moreover, in this he felt that an affront had been put upon the memory of Giovanni d'Anguissola, who was my father and who went nigh to being Falcone's god. And this his answer plainly showed.
Cosimo stared at him with round eyes, and I stared too, no glimmer of the enormous truth breaking yet upon my bewildered mind. In the court the silence was deathly until Gonzaga spoke. "Do you say that Mondolfo and Carmina did not belong that they never were the fiefs of Agostino d'Anguissola?" he asked.
As for Messer d'Anguissola..." He shrugged as who would say, "Have pity on such a boor!" But her answer, crisp and sudden as come words that are spoken on impulse or inspiration, dashed his confidence. "Nothing that he said offended me," she told him boldly, almost scornfully.
"It cannot," said Galeotto, "since you have the courage to assume that title, for the lordship of Mondolfo is an unlucky one to bear, Ser Cosimo. Giovanni d'Anguissola was unhappy in all things, and his was a truly miserable end. His father before him was poisoned by his best friend, and as for the last who legitimately bore that title why, none can say that the poor lad was fortunate."
Enough!" he added, in his haughty, peremptory fashion. "Ser Agostino, I await your pleasure." "I will appeal to Rome," cried Fra Gervasio, now beside himself with grief. Cosimo smiled darkly, pityingly. "It is to be feared that Rome will turn a deaf ear to appeals on behalf of the son of Giovanni d'Anguissola." And with that he motioned me to precede him.
"The Holy Office has sent to arrest the person of Agostino d'Anguissola, for whom it has been seeking for over a year." "For me?" I cried, stepping forward ahead of Cavalcanti. "What has the Holy Office to do with me?" The leading familiar advanced.
Cosimo d'Anguissola, however, had the effrontery to send a messenger a week later to Pagliano, to demand the surrender of his wife, saying that she was his by God's law and man's, and threatening to enforce his rights by an appeal to the Vatican. That we sent the messenger empty-handed away, it is scarce necessary to chronicle.
The herald wound a challenge; and it was answered from the postern by a man-at-arms, whereupon the herald delivered his message. "In the name of our Holy Father and Lord, Paul III, we summon Agostino d'Anguissola here to confer with the High and Mighty Cosimo d'Anguissola, Tyrant of Mondolfo and Carmina."
"That is what I say," returned Galeotto, towering there, immense and formidable in his gleaming armour. "To whom, then, did they belong?" "They did and do belong to Giovanni d'Anguissola Agostino's father." Cosimo shrugged at this, and some of the dismay passed from his countenance. "What folly is this?" he cried. "Giovanni d'Anguissola died at Perugia eight years ago."
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