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Updated: May 29, 2025
Orazio Vecellio, despatched by his father in the spring of 1559 to Milan to receive the arrears of pension, accepted the hospitality of the sculptor Leone Leoni, who was then living in splendid style in a palace which he had built and adorned for himself in the Lombard city.
France!" when he woke up, with the perspiration standing on his brow and the conviction full upon him as he reached for his cloak and sword that real danger did threaten his lord, when Leoni seized his arm. "Come, boy," he said, and he led him into the room where Francis and Saint Simon were talking.
"And who is that man?" cried Francis, rising to his feet and standing proudly before his three courtiers kneeling before him; for as he uttered his next words Leoni sank in turn upon one knee and bent his head, to say in a low deep tone, almost a whisper, but which seemed to fill the silence of the place: "I, Sire your faithful servant. I am that man."
"At any time when the King does not require my services," said Leoni, smiling. "Why, you will soon be a better swordsman than I." "Oh, sir!" cried Denis deprecatingly. "Well, say as good, my dear boy, when you know all that I can teach you." "And you will teach me all, sir?" "Of course, of course," said the doctor, laying his hand caressingly on the boy's shoulder.
The young officer passed through without a word, and, half ashamed of his hesitation, Francis followed, to have his hand seized in the darkness by Saint Simon, who led him for a few yards along the dark passage, where they stopped listening, to hear Leoni close the door with a faint, half-smothered click. Leoni joined them the next moment, "Let me pass now and go first," he whispered.
"One at a time," muttered Leoni; "one at a time. Easy for us; but can I make my chief piece obey me and move alone?"
"No, Sire; quite uninjured when we saw him last." "When you saw him last? Then where is he now?" "A prisoner at the castle, Sire. The brave lad volunteered to take your place while we endeavoured to save our King." "To take my place! Do you mean to say, then, that he personated me?" "Yes, Sire; to lie as if wounded on your bed." "He did that?" cried the King; and Leoni slowly bent his head.
But there will come a time when we shall want to think of supper and of bed, for we can't go on riding all night even if we are undisturbed. Now then, Saint Simon, what have you to say?" The young man slowly shook his head. "Bah!" cried the King. "What a dumb dog you are! And I know nothing of the way. I begin to feel that we ought to have had old Leoni with us, after all.
"You do not, sir," he began, "see any disadvantage in " "In what?" said the King sharply. "Why, sir, in our taking this English stripling along with us on the morrow?" "By my sword, no!" said the King. "Why should I?" "He is keen and clever." "And what of that?" "Simply this, sir: he might divine the truth. A word, a look " "Leoni, have I not acted my part well till now?" "Yes, sir." "Then "
The southern squadre were called S. Antonio, whose banner was of flame colour, on which was a pig; S. Martino, with a banner of white, black, and red; San Marco, with a banner of white and yellow with a winged lion, and under its feet was the gospel, on which was written Pax tibi Marce; the Leoni, with a banner of black and white; the Dragoni, with a banner of green and white; the Delfini, with a banner of blue and yellow.
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