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The family of the Prefetti fed up the murderer in their castle and then gave him alive to be eaten by their hounds. Sforza Attendolo killed Terzi by a spear-thrust in the back. Pandolfo Petrucci murdered Borghese, who was his father-in-law. Raimondo Malatesta was stabbed by his two nephews disguised as hermits.

Here in Assisi, too, he received the Siennese envoys who came to wait upon him, and he demanded that, out of respect for the King of France, they should drive out Pandolfo Petrucci from Siena.

Sodoma was a native of Vercelli, and had received his first training in the Lombard schools, which owed so much to Lionardo da Vinci's influence. He was about thirty years of age when chance brought him to Siena. Here he made acquaintance with Pandolfo Petrucci, who had recently established himself in a species of tyranny over the Republic.

He entered into plots with the exiled Piero de'Medici to restore the latter to his dominion; he set intrigues afoot in Pisa, where his influence was vast, and in Siena, whose tyrant, Pandolfo Petrucci, was ready and willing to forward his designs, and generally made so disturbing a stir in Tuscany that the Signory became gravely alarmed.

The priest's face sharpened with a sudden suspicion. "Your manners are somewhat peremptory, sir Spaniard. But speak and let us get on." "I have only the one word. I told you we had come north to see the fruition of the good work, and you approved. We do not mean the same. By good work I mean that about sunrise I slew with this sword the man Petrucci, who slew the Admiral.

"Fancy, in such beautiful weather!" Then, remembering that two of the ladies were still strangers, she made an old-fashioned little courtesy. "I hope you won't find me a trouble, ladies," she said. "She is charming!" said Madame Petrucci, throwing up her hands.

And twice a week he gave her a music lesson. "She has a splendid organ!" he would say. "Vous croyez?" fluted Madame Petrucci with the vilest accent and the most aggravating smile imaginable. It was the one hobby of the signorino's that she regarded with disrespect. Goneril, too, was a little bored by the music lesson; but, on the other hand, the walks delighted her.

Then, having gone to Siena, he stayed there for months and even years with Pandolfo Petrucci, in whose house he painted many rooms, which, from their being very well designed and coloured in a pleasing manner, were rightly admired and praised by all the people of Siena, and particularly by the above-named Pandolfo, by whom he was always looked upon with great favour and cherished most dearly.

"Am I such a tyrant?" counter-questioned the signorino. "No; but they are always begging me to ask you things. Angiolino wants to know if he may go for three days to see his uncle at Fiesole." "Of course." "But why, then, don't they ask you themselves? Is it they think me so cheeky?" "Perhaps they think I can refuse you nothing." "Che! In that case they would ask Madame Petrucci."

As to the mischances which may befall, since these are unforeseen, they can only be instanced by examples which may make men more cautious. Giulio Belanti of Siena, of whom I have spoken before, from the hate he bore Pandolfo Petrucci, who had given him his daughter to wife and afterwards taken her from him, resolved to murder him, and thus chose his time.