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Updated: June 9, 2025
Not a word did Ramiro answer him, but his glance fastened upon Lampugnani with an expression before which that impudent ruffian lowered his own bold eyes. Thus for a moment; then with an awkward laugh to cover the intimidation that he felt, Lampugnani walked heavily from the room and banged the door after him. There was about it all a strangeness that set my wits to work in a mighty busy fashion.
I can conceive nothing that might lie between the Lord of Citta di Castello and this ruffian of Cesena, and yet treason lurks often where least it is expected, and treason makes stranger bed-fellows than misfortune." "Lampugnani was no fool, and yet a great fool," the old man murmured. He surmised what you have surmised. With each of the messengers Ramiro has dealt in the same manner.
What a place of blood was this! Could it be that Cesare Borgia had no knowledge of what things were being performed by his Governor of Cesena? "Poor Lampugnani!" I sighed. "God rest his soul." "I doubt but he is in Hell," answered Mariani, without emotion. "He was as great a villain as his master, and he has gone to answer for his villainy even as this ugly monster of a Ramiro shall.
Then, turning to the man, himself, "I shall require you to set out at daybreak with my answer," he said; and so, with a wave of the hand, he dismissed him. As the messenger departed Ramiro returned to the table, filled himself a cup of wine and drank. "What says the Lord Vitelli?" Lampugnani ventured to ask him.
The attempt was successful, but Lampugnani was killed on the spot by the attendants of the duke; the others were captured: Visconti was penitent, but Olgiati through all his tortures maintained that the deed was an acceptable offering to God, and exclaimed while the executioner was breaking his ribs, 'Courage, Girolamo! thou wilt long be remembered; death is bitter, but glory is eternal.
And he pointed to the far end of the chamber where some ropes were hanging from a pulley, the implements of the ghastly torture of the cord. Of such a nature was this monster that he made a torture-chamber of his dining-hall. "Let the rogue make acquaintance with it," laughed Lampugnani, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth behind the black beard that bushed his lips.
Ramiro looked at him, and by his glance it was plain to see that the words had jarred his temper. Whatever it was that Vitelli wrote to Ramiro, this gentleman was not minded to divulge it. "If you have supped, Lampugnani," said the Governor slowly, his eyes upon his offending officer, "perhaps you will find some duty to perform ere you seek your bed."
"Courage, Girolamo, for you will long be remembered; death is bitter, but fame eternal!" cried Girolamo Olgiati, the disciple of Cola Montano and the murderer, together with his fellow-conspirators Lampugnani and Visconti, of Galeazzo Sforza, tyrant of Milan.
Galeazzo Sforza had wounded the two latter in the points which men hold dearest their honor and their property by outraging the sister of Olgiati and by depriving Lampugnani of the patronage of the Abbey of Miramondo. The spirit of Harmodius and Virginius was kindled in the friends, and they determined to rid Milan of her despot.
Three young nobles of Milan, educated in the classic literature by Montano, a distinguished Bolognese scholar, had imbibed from their studies of Greek and Latin history an ardent thirst for liberty and a deadly hatred of tyrants. Their names were Carlo Visconti, Girolamo Olgiati, and Giannandrea Lampugnani.
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