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Updated: May 4, 2025
Madame Petrucci, always serene and kind, took no notice of these little changes, but they were particularly irritating to Miss Prunty, who was, after all, only four years older than the signorino. That lady had, indeed, become more than usually sharp and foreboding.
In this, Gianpaolo persevered most bravely until he had news that the duke was as near as Gualdo, when precipitately he fled leaving his guests to shift for themselves. He had remembered, perhaps, at the last moment how narrow an escape he had had of it at Sinigaglia, and he repaired to Siena to join Pandolfo Petrucci, who had been equally fortunate in that connection.
"He did, in fact, refuse; but my brother would have no baptism saving with that name, which, unfortunately, it is impossible to shorten." "I think it is a charming name!" said Madame Petrucci, coming to the rescue. "Gonerilla it dies on one's lips like music! And if you do not like it, Brigida, what's in a name? as your charming Byron said." "I hope we shall make her happy," said Miss Prunty.
The postscript is a sad one. In October of the same year the unhappy prince was attacked in the night and robbed of life and throne by his brother's son; and I myself escaped narrowly, and am now in the deepest misery. A near-despotism, without morals or principles, such as Pandolfo Petrucci exercised from after 1490 in Siena, then torn by faction, is hardly worth a closer consideration.
"Perhaps they think I can refuse you nothing." "Chè! In that case they would ask Madame Petrucci." Goneril ran on to pick some china roses. The signorino stopped confounded. "It is impossible!" he cried; "she cannot think I am in love with Giulia! She cannot think I am so old as that!" The idea seemed horrible to him.
It may be Navarre is with them." The mob needed no second bidding. Their chance had come, and they swept along with a hoarse mutter more fearful than any shouting. "Knee to knee, Gawain," said Gaspard, "as at St. John d'Ulloa. Remember, Petrucci is for me."
The next day more help in the form of money and artillery arrived, sent by Pandolfo Petrucci, and on the 18th of June the citadel of Arezzo, which had received no news from Florence, was obliged to surrender. Vitellozzo left the men of Arezzo to look after their town themselves, leaving also Fabio Orsina to garrison the citadel with a thousand men.
He walked on very quickly till he came to Goneril, who was busy plucking roses in a hedge. "For whom are those flowers?" he asked. "Some are for you, and some are for Madame Petrucci." "She is a charming woman, Madame Petrucci." "A dear old lady," murmured Goneril, much interested in her posy. "Old do you call her?" said the signorino rather anxiously.
Madame Petrucci was beautifully dressed in soft black silk, old lace, and a white Indian shawl. Miss Prunty had on her starchiest collar and most formal tie. Goneril saw it was necessary that she, likewise should deck herself in her best. She was much too young and impressionable not to be influenced by the flutter of excitement and interest which filled the whole of the little cottage.
"We expect the signorino," said Miss Prunty. "And is he going to stay here?" "Don't be a fool!" snapped that lady; and then she added "Go into the kitchen and get some of the pastry and some bread and cheese, there's a good girl." "All right!" said Goneril. Madame Petrucci stopped her vocalising. "You shall have all the better a dinner to compensate you, my Gonerilla!"
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