Troilo shrugged his shoulders, saying to himself:—"She really enjoys thinking herself past all hope; but how can she help seeing clearly that the Duke is the happiest man in the world? She wishes, and indeed it would be for her advantage, that I should go away. But we know each other of old; and I have never felt so much disposed as now to stay and see the end of it. That I must give place, is all right and proper; if they wish me to give with one hand, I will give with two; but we must capitulate on honorable conditions; must come to advantageous terms; I intend to depart with military honors, taking my arms and baggage, not to be driven away like an old servant."

It was not long before the Duke reappeared, honorably accompanied, but without Virginio. When Isabella saw him enter alone the last ray of hope was extinguished in her heart, the entire renunciation of which is most difficult for the human heart. Then she seemed indeed to read her sentence of death. Death is terrible to all, but especially so to those who, from physical weakness, shrink from suffering it. A cold shudder ran through her bones, her face became deathly pale, her livid lips quivered convulsively. No one can deny that her own sense must have taught her that it would be impossible to use violence against a mother in presence of her son. She went towards the Duke, and with an indescribable expression asked him:

"Where is our Virginio?"

"Your brother insisted upon keeping him; he says that his attention is too easily diverted, and that it is a most difficult thing to bring him back again to his daily routine. In truth, it seems hard that I should not enjoy my son's society, after so many years of separation, but you know it is for our interest to conciliate his Highness. However, he has promised to send him for one day to our country-seat, accompanied by his tutor——"

"Country-seat? which country-seat?"

"Cerreto."

"When?"

"Very soon."

"He will certainly send him to the country, but not to Cerreto. To-morrow, perhaps——"

"He did not say to-morrow?"

"No! but my heart tells me—Alas! Why did I not give him a farewell kiss?"

"Do you fear that you will not have time to kiss him?"

"Do you believe that I shall have time to kiss him?" demanded Isabella, with a look that seemed to penetrate into the inmost recesses of his heart. The Duke, glancing away from her, tried to escape her questionings and pleadings.

"Of course I believe it; what is there to prevent? If he should forget it, we can send for him. Come, then, to horse; what need is there of further delay? To Cerreto—to peace—to rest—to repose after our long labors—to sweet sleep!"

"Stultum est somno delectari, mortem horrere: cum somnus assiduus sit mortis mutatio."[51]

"What are you murmuring, Isabella?"

"I just happened to think of a sentence in Seneca, about sleep the brother of death."

"How can such a quotation apply to us?"

"It does not." And two tears—two only—came to her eyes, but instead of rolling down her cheeks in the usual manner, they sprang from her lids like the last arrow shot from the bow of Grief.[52]

"To horse!"

The servants, hurried by the impetuosity of Titta, whom they perceived that they must obey as the Duke, or even more than the Duke, prepared with wonderful celerity horses, carriages, and a waggon, with such articles as could not be readily obtained in the country. The major-domo, Don Inigo, had asked with his usual brevity, "Whether it would be necessary to carry much plate and linen?" but Titta replied,

"Why, no, major-domo, for I do not think that we shall stay very long at Cerreto."

They set out. The sun darted down his fiery rays, the winds were silent, there was not a breath of air, and the stifling glare of the tyrant of the skies oppressed all nature. The leaves of the trees hung motionless, for not a breath, not a sigh of wind dared to stir them; the waters ceased their accustomed murmur; in such still silence, in such intense solitude, the locusts alone, as if drunk with the heat, labored in their monotonous song, which ends with their lives; some lizards, gliding across the road with the speed of an arrow, sought shelter from the heat from bush to bush. To increase the distress of the journey, the dust, disturbed by the trampling of the horses' feet, rose in clouds and settled thickly upon the hair and clothes of the riders. The horses, losing their usual spirit, walked panting, with drooping ears, and streaming with perspiration. The Duke, his face in a flame, and tormented also by insupportable fury, disguised his uneasiness, and said in a voice which he endeavored to render cheerful:

"This sun-bath revives one's blood. Men born on Italian ground must feel their hearts refreshed by the rays of the 'day-star;' heat is the father of life, nay, life itself for we are born warm and we die cold."

Meantime, with infinite trouble they had reached the banks of the Arno. A few days before a sudden shower of rain had fallen, which, although it had increased the sultriness, for it seemed as if it had rained fire, had nevertheless raised the level of the Arno, whose swollen waters rolled swiftly by. The ferryman being summoned, hastened at the sight of such a noble and unexpected company, and proposed to take them in two trips, for the river being so high, and the boat so heavily laden, he feared that some disaster might happen. But all were impatient to cross the stream, and the Duke particularly; so the knights dismounted from their steeds, the ladies descended from the carriage, and they all entered the boat, together with the animals and vehicles, without paying the slightest attention to the remonstrances of the boatman, who did not cease to warn them of the danger. The Duke and Isabella advanced to the prow of the boat, which would first touch the shore, without exchanging a word. He gazed intently at the waters as they ran swiftly by, urged on, as it were, by some mysterious agency, and murmuring hoarsely as if complaining of the fleeting destiny granted to them by the fates. Suddenly, as if speaking to himself he said:

"These waves, which pass so rapidly before my eyes, will certainly grow quiet in the sea; but where go the human souls which pass away no less swiftly?"

"Wherever it pleases the mercy of God," replied Isabella.

"Mercy! Say rather to whatever place we may deserve by the works and merits which we perform during this passage to the tomb which we call life."

"My dear Giordano, let no human creature presume to save himself by his own merits. What should we be, if God did not assist us?"

"You confide much in the mercy of God?"

"Entirely."

"But if the priests should declare you unpardonable?"

"I should not despair, unless I should myself hear that severe sentence from the immortal lips of the Father of Mercies."

"But God is a judge and avenger: He visits the generations, and 'visits the sins of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth—'"

"We know another law, which is pardon, charity, and love; the blessed Santa Teresa calls the devil unhappy, because he can neither pardon nor love—"

"God help us!—We shall upset!"—

These cries suddenly interrupted the conversation. In a moment, all was fear and confusion. The rope attached to the rudder broke, and the force of the current, pushing the boat on one side, nearly submerged it, all control over it being thus lost; the peril was imminent, increased as it was by the uneasy motions of the men and animals; the edge of the boat already touched the water; it was on the point of filling hopelessly.

The Duke appeared not only free from all fear in that tumult, but even enjoyed it, and with a great shout exclaimed:

"Let us all go to the bottom together!"

But the ferryman, with a strong push of his pole, was just in time to support the side towards which the boat careened, and to save it from disappearing beneath the surface. Rescued thus from the immediate danger, the others assisted the ferryman, and by means of their united strength, they succeeded, although with difficulty, in keeping the boat steady; a servant, with a rope in his hand, then sprang into the water, and crossing the stream, reached the opposite shore, where, with the aid of some peasants who were waiting to cross, he drew the rope, one end of which was fastened to the boat, and succeeded in bringing it to a place of safety. They landed, but when the ferryman, cap in hand, tried to recall himself to their memories, which seemed cousins-german to forgetfulness, Isabella, looking back at him, said:

"Why did you save us? Many would have died innocent, who will now be lost."

And the Duke:

"Why did you save us? Who told you to? Who asked you to? We should all have sunk to the bottomless pit without noticing it."

Troilo and the others looked askance at him as they passed. The honest man stood confounded. Last of all came Don Inigo, so very dark, with his pallid face and fierce glance. If to the eyes of the ferryman the others had appeared demons, this man seemed Satan himself; in his heart he gave up all hope of the expected buona mano; nevertheless, according to his custom, he moved forward to ask it, but his voice died away on his lips. Don Inigo fixed upon him two such eyes that the frightened boatman retreated two or three steps, and as Don Inigo continued to advance, without changing a muscle of his face, he still retreated. Don Inigo thrust his hand into his doublet, and the other, fearing that he was about to draw his dagger or poniard, gave himself up for lost: but instead, he drew forth two bright pistoles and held them out to him. The ferryman hardly dared to trust himself, but the love of money overcame his fear: he approached tremblingly, and stretched forth his open hand. Don Inigo dropped the pistoles into it without speaking; the other received them holding his breath; then, each turning away from the other, the ferryman set off at a full run, and did not consider himself safe until he was actually in his boat. When there he opened his hand, suspecting that the money had turned to lead, which generally happens, according to popular superstition, with money coined in the infernal mint; but they still seemed of gold, as they had done at first: at any rate, he put them carefully away in his purse, exclaiming:

"I will have them blessed, for if it was not the devil and all his imps that I have just ferried over, I am not the ferryman of Petroio!"

At last they have reached Cerreto-Guidi; at last they have reached the foot of the steep flight of steps by which they wearily mount to the country-seat at the top.

Country-seat! Yes, certainly, for thus that block of buildings was then called, and always will be called, which was once the property of Isabella Orsini at Cerreto-Guidi. There nature smiles most brightly, and shows herself most joyful, and notwithstanding, man, placing his fatal hand upon it, has succeeded in rendering it the abode of terror: a hill, which, if left untouched, would have been a most beautiful and charming sight, has been bound with brick and stone, and converted into a fortress. Four very steep staircases, two on each side, lead to the top; the two first form an angle at the foot of the hill, and then part, the one to the right, the other to the left; the two second begin where these end, and reunite in an angle before the lawn in front of the palace. The walls come down perpendicularly, built of brick of so bright a tint that even now they appear as if stained with blood; the bosses, the stairs, and the copings of the parapets are of Gonfalina stone; the two first staircases have forty-two steps, each of which is more than a foot broad; the second, forty-three; the cliff beneath is excavated, with tortuous, subterranean passages winding through it. In the centre of the wall rests an immense escutcheon, also of stone; but the Medicean balls,[53] either the effect of time or "the work of men's hands," have fallen, as the family of the Medici has fallen, as their power has fallen, as all the great ones of the earth will fall, into the sepulchre. To some sooner, to some later, but to all fatally, will the Autumn come, for we are leaves attached to the tree of time, and time itself is a perishing leaf of eternity. But when men have fallen and their age has passed away, fame remains, which, although it may grow old and infirm, never dies; and even if sometimes late, always reaches posterity, to recount the vices and virtues of those who have passed from earth. Despotic potentates have lived, who have torn out its tongue, and thought thus to silence it, but the tongue of fame springs again like the head of the Hydra, and God does not permit a Hercules to rise against it, for He has sent it upon earth as a precursor of His own delayed but inevitable justice.

The palace contains a vast hall on the ground-floor; at the further end of it there is an arch, at the right of which a broad stone staircase leads to the first story.

Just on the right hand of the entrance is a suite of apartments. Enter, cross it, and you will find a corner room; one side looks to the south, that opposite to the door to the west. There is now but one window to the room; at the time of our history there were two; the second opened to the west. There are two doors; one large and in full view, the other small and secret, and formerly covered by tapestry of green damask. The room is ten feet by seven. In the wall is a large press, which is not readily perceived by the careless observer: looking up to the entablature, we find that there are sixteen small joists resting upon one principal beam. But it is not to count beams and joists that I turn your attention to the ceiling: indeed no; look carefully, and there, under the principal beam, by the third cross-beam from the western side, you will observe a small round hole.

Remember this room and this hole. Two hundred and seventy-eight years have now passed since that hole appeared there.

Cerreto (an oak grove) received its name from the abundance of green oaks (Cerri) that shaded the hill and the surrounding country for a long distance, as Frassineto (an ash grove) from the ash trees (Frassini), and Suvereto (a wood of cork trees) from the corks (Sugheri), and Rovereto (a male oak grove) from the male oaks (Roveri). Where are the oak trees now? The eye of the passer-by seeks in vain for a tree beneath whose shade to shelter his burning head from the sun's scorching glare; and not at Cerreto alone, but throughout all Tuscany, and even upon the lofty peaks of the Apennine range, trees are to the present day but seldom seen. Oh! sad is the necessity which compels us to deprive the earth of so noble an ornament! The forests have disappeared, and with them the Dryads, the Hamadryads, the Fauns, the Oreads, and the other lovely families with which the fancy of the poets peopled them; the forests have disappeared, and with them the Knights Errant, the tournaments, the chivalrous enterprises, the fairies, the dwarfs, and the Queens of Beauty, with whom the imaginations of the romancers gladdened their sylvan haunts. The nymphs of the woods followed mourning to see the beloved trees, and recommended them to the care of the ocean goddesses, as if they had been best beloved children; and the ocean goddesses cared for them, fashioned them into ships, adorned them with sails as purely white as the wings of the swan, gave them the swiftness of the albatross, and the shining beauty of the halcyon; then with their hands and shining shoulders they pushed the stern, and the favoring winds, vieing with the nymphs, swelled the sails, and took pleasure in spreading to the azure sky the banner of our land.

The ship, traversing untried seas, carried arts, customs, and knowledge, to civilize unknown and savage nations, and the banner of our land was hailed even on the remotest shores as a token of safety. Alas! This is a desire which, however earnest, can never more be fulfilled. The woods of our country are shorn of their leaves, as Grecian maidens formerly sacrificed their tresses at the tombs of their dear ones. Our trees have been converted into ships, but not for us; the winds have unfolded the banner, but it was not ours; they have joined in battle, but it was not for the fates of our country; they have sailed laden with merchandise, but not gathered from our fields, nor manufactured by our hands; they have indeed been guided by Italian men over unknown seas, and through terrible storms and fearful perils, but others have received the fruits of these enterprises, and our country has won merely barren renown. Barbarous nations have bought our forests, while the iron dared not touch their oaks, beneath which the Druids celebrated their mysterious rites. Oh! miserable nation, who have sold everything, and had it been possible would have sold even your sun and sky, why, if you yourselves had no thrill of daring or of glory, why did you disinherit your posterity? Why, not contented with your own baseness, did you prepare for your sons an inheritance of shame and tears? What judgment awaits you beyond the grave, since your children will remember their fathers only by the ill which they have received from them?

But Cerreto was at that time shaded with an abundance of oaks, elms, holm-oaks, and trees of all kinds; while pheasants, heath-cocks, and infinite varieties of birds flew from bough to bough, and roebucks, deer, stags, hares, and wild-boars bounded through the underbrush; so that the place was remarkably well adapted for the chase, the supreme delight in the lives of Princes.

When Isabella, leaning on her husband's arm, began to ascend the stairs, she stumbled on the first step, so as to cause herself severe pain; smiling sadly, she turned to the Duke and said:

"This is a bad omen: a Roman would have turned back."[54]

The Duke, not being able to think of a good answer, kept silence, trying in his turn to laugh.

As soon as they reached the palace, every one repaired to his own apartments; the Duke went to those which contained the room already so minutely described, to perform his toilet.

When they had bathed in perfumed water, changed their clothes, and dressed their hair, they all met again on the piazza in front of the palace.

The sun, shorn of his rays, resembled a blood-shot eye, and the whole sky near him seemed like a lake of blood. An immense extent of country lay stretched out before the eyes of our personages, for from that height could be seen the greater part of the territories of Florence, Pistoia, Volterra, Pisa, Colle, Samminiato, and even Leghorn. Groups of houses were scattered about on the hills, like flocks of goats in their pastures; from the little cottages rose straight columns of smoke, and the sound of melancholy songs was heard from the plains, to which other voices in the distance replied in strains equally mournful. From a black cloud darted, from time to time, a tongue of flame like the sword of the avenging Archangel hidden behind it. The sun meantime is gradually sinking—now it is merely a streak of light—now it is gone! Isabella, moved by an irresistible impulse, stretched forth her arms with the despairing sorrow with which we see our dearest treasures hidden from our sight beneath the earth, and exclaimed:

"Farewell, O sun, farewell!" and covered her face with her hands.

"Farewell until to-morrow," said the Duke, "and may you rise with a brighter face than that with which you leave us. Beautiful plains, pleasant woods, and delightful ease, at last I return to enjoy you, nor will I again leave you hastily. I am weary of pursuing glory, which is never overtaken; or if overtaken, when man thinks to clasp a supreme good, his arms fall empty on his bosom. I wish to find my pleasure in domestic joys, the only true ones in the world. I reproach myself, and I ask your pardon, Isabella, and bind myself by an oath never to leave you again. I thank you, that on returning home, I have not been received as a stranger; I owe it to the excellent goodness of your disposition, that coming back, after so many years of absence, I can believe that I departed only yesterday. My heart is sick; it is for you to cure it entirely of the fever of ambition, which has wrung it so sorely."

Isabella looked at him, and smiled mournfully without speaking; but Troilo, who thought him sincere, replied consolingly:

"Now how can you say that you have spent your days in vain? In a hundred battles you have gathered laurels enough to crown two Cæsars; not to mention others, at Lepanto alone you have, by your bravery and prowess, acquired a name that history will record with pride in her eternal pages. Ah! be good enough to satisfy my long desire; narrate to me the events of this 'battle of the giants.'"

"At another time, Troilo, at another time; but, I repeat it, all is vanity. Look and see what good has arisen from so many deaths, from so much misery, from so many wounds! The Christians, envious of each other, did not follow up their victory; the Turks rose again, more troublesome than ever; and Don John, unacceptable conqueror, received as the recompense of his wonderful valor, nothing but oblivion, and happy he if nothing worse happen to him! That great soldier heart, which expands in the dangers of the conflict, will quickly cease to beat if condemned to fret itself away at Court,[55] for glory was his breath, danger his blood, war his very life. The fate of this illustrious but unfortunate man, teaches me to be wise, and furl the sails worn by the long voyage. True, it is late, but 'better late than never;'—the sun of my life is declining—God grant that its setting at least may be peaceful!"

The servants had prepared two tables in the lower hall, and they were overloaded with the gifts of Ceres and Bacchus; many chandeliers shone with brilliant light, which was reflected in infinite rays from the sparkling silver plate, white porcelain vases, and large mirrors. All the doors which looked upon the piazza had been opened, and also the opposite ones opening into the gardens; and yet the air was so still that not even a light flickered, and the folds of the window curtains and awnings were as immovable as if made of marble or bronze. Through so many openings there did not penetrate a single refreshing breath of air.

They sat at the banquet. The Duke strove his best to make the guests give themselves up to joy and merriment; he had need of excitement; he endeavored to stupefy himself; he meant to drown his internal passion in the madness of false hilarity: in short, he sought mainly two things, courage to persist, and power to dissimulate. He succeeded finally; for the guests, having no motive to doubt the sincerity of the Duke's gaiety, abandoned themselves to a free and open demonstration of enjoyment, and thus was tempered the artificial and icy happiness which he pretended. Troilo, who, as all ignorant men are wont, presumed a great deal on himself, thought there was no danger; yet he was not entirely at his ease, and, at any rate, he thought best to drown all sadness in wine. The conversation began to be more excited and lively; witty sayings flew from mouth to mouth. The banquet was at its climax; the valets and pages hastened around, carrying wines of all kinds and warm viands; the noise which arises from gay voices speaking all together, a sure indication of a merry feast, filled the whole room, and from time to time was broken by loud laughter.

But Isabella participated in this hilarity as much as was necessary not to show the perturbation which agitated her; and it did not escape her notice that the Duke, whilst he urged the others and herself to drink often, never did himself, or, hardly touching the glass to his lips, set it down again. Her eyes often sought those of the Duke, but he studiously avoided hers, or if by chance they met he turned them away quickly. Not that she was sorry at this, prepared as she was for everything, but, through an innate vanity in our nature, she wished to show him that she might be murdered, but not deceived.

And since there never are motives wanting among men either to do an injury or to drink, so it is useless to relate in how many ways, and for how many reasons, they all drank.

Troilo, partly to correspond to the general exultation, partly to acquire more and more the good will of his cousin, rose suddenly, and holding in his hand a full goblet, toasted the Duke thus:

"The health of the valorous knight of Christ, the victorious warrior of Lepanto."

There is nothing in the world so insupportable as praise in the mouth of an enemy; no insult can offend as much as this eulogium; and it seemed excessively insulting to the Duke, for he knew too well that it was derived from stupidity, but mingled with malice; and it is also no little offence to human vanity to allow the fool to suppose that he has been able to deceive us. Yet he dissimulated; for when he undertook a task, although weak by nature, he was capable by art of dissimulating as well as the most dexterous.

At the toast of Troilo all replied applauding, and, although the power of the wine had a great deal to do with these vociferous approvals, yet they poured so sincerely from their hearts, that the warrior felt proud of them, and they tempered the bitterness caused by the thought of the source from whence the toast came, and the reason of it.

The Duke rose also, and taking a glass, replied in an attitude of acknowledgment:

"It is too much for me! But human tongue can never extol enough the illustrious souls of those who perished fighting on that memorable day."

"My Lord Duke, pray do not deny to us the honor and pleasure of hearing you relate the events of that battle: we beg you, by the love you bear to your lady."

"No; what is the use? You have all read it in the histories of the times."

And all the guests insisted, speaking at once:

"Yes, but in generalities;—without details of facts and incidents. And then, to read a relation of a battle is a very different thing from hearing it from one who fought in it, shed his blood, and conquered. Please narrate it to us."

And Titta, who had accompanied the Duke, and had fought at his side and saved his life, desired that his prowess might be shown also as well as his master's, so that he insisted more than the others that the Duke, who was a good speaker, should relate the events and dangers of that famous battle. Indeed the refusal of the Duke, to tell the truth, was not sincere; not that he was a miles gloriosus, but every soldier loves to record the battles he fought, the wounds received, and to show himself a generous bestower of praise on the enemy, whether conquerors or conquered;—if conquerors, to excuse the defeat;—if conquered, to render his triumph more glorious.

Titta then, in a certain manner which was neither a request nor a command, but participated of both, added:

"May it please your Excellency, although modesty may deter you from narrating the battle, you must not deprive me of my share of praises; for I also fought by your side, and as fortune, rather than my own bravery, gave me the chance of saving the life of a valorous warrior, I cannot renounce the reward accruing from this act, although an accidental one."

"You are right, and I could not honestly be silent, when silence might be imputed to me as ingratitude. Please then to listen; I will speak briefly and plainly, as becomes a soldier. And you, Isabella, remember all that I am about to say, and make it a noble theme for your muse ... since now nothing is left to the warrior for reward but the smile of beauty, and the honor of a poem."

"Is not that enough?" asked Isabella.

"It is even too much.—All Christendom was in arms: knights of high lineage, plebeians, adventurers assembled from all sides to fight the enemies of Christ, in order to obtain remission for their sins, and the great indulgences promised by Pope Pius V. But although the desire of the warriors was great to meet the enemy in mortal combat, yet the secret intentions of the allied Princes were not in accordance with them. The Venetians craved the battle, the Pope more than they; but Philip II. of Spain was unwilling to risk an enterprise on which depended all the forces of his kingdom, and where victory would have been rather to the advantage of his allies than to himself; nor in his crafty and cunning mind did he desire the Italians to acquire fame; fearing lest they might be induced, as it is customary with human natures, to feel the want of acquiring a greater one.[56] The great Comendador of Castille Requesens had been sent to Don John of Austria as a check, and he never ceased whispering in his ears, to curb his fiery spirit; that his supreme glory and religion ought to be the welfare and advancement of the king his brother; so that the great soul of this magnanimous man sadly wavered with painful uncertainty. But every day there arrived new forces ready to fight, seeking for no other reward or glory than that of shedding their own blood for the Faith. Don John would sigh from the depth of his heart, and with his eyes fixed upon the ground tremble with rage, or grow pale and disheartened. The advices of Gabrio Serbelloni, general of artillery, of Ascanio della Cornia, grand-master of the field, and of Sforza, Count of Santafiore, general of the Italians for king Philip, were of no little help to add spurs to his valorous soul. Yet, it seemed that the battle would not take place, for fortune hindered the enterprise with all her might; and indeed a vague report was spread, that, on account of the lateness of the season, and the stormy weather, this year they would only attempt to gain possession of Castelnuovo, or Nelona, or Durazzo, or Santa Maura. Add to this, that Don John, being greatly exasperated against the Venetians, was on the point of losing the occasion through which his name will descend immortal even to remote posterity. The Venetian galleys were somewhat ill supplied with soldiers, and accordingly Don John thought it best to replenish them with his Italian and Spanish troops; it was a remedy worse than the disease, since a day did not pass without tumults, quarrels, and bloody fights arising. Captain Muzio da Cortona, stationed on the galley of Andrea Calergi, a nobleman of Crete, having a quarrel with some Venetians, drew his sword, and wounded several of them; a melée ensued, they called to arms, and all the Venetians that happened to be around assailed and abused him badly; but Veniero, the Venetian general, as if this had not been enough, had him arrested, and hung without mercy. Don John, considering his authority offended, was resolved to take a solemn revenge against the Venetians, refusing to listen to all the arguments with which Marcantonio Colonna, and the Venetian Admiral Barbarigo, tried to pacify him.—But God, who watched over our safety, caused the arrival of the unhappy news of the loss of Famagosta; and that Marcantonio Bragadino and Astorre Baglioni, after having defended it valorously for ten months, were forced through want of ammunition, and the impatience of the citizens, to surrender it with honorable conditions. But the barbarian conqueror, violating his oath, ordered Bragadino's ears to be cut off, and then, having dragged him ignominiously to the market-place, after unheard of barbarities had him skinned alive; nor being yet satisfied with this, he caused the skin to be filled with straw, and hung to the mast of a galley, exhibiting through Soria and the other Turkish countries this infamous trophy.—It was on this occasion that Don John, shutting his eyes, and becoming pale as death, seemed like a man who had received a powerful blow upon the head; and he remained thus for a little while; then with regal dignity he turned appeased to Veniero, and extending his hand to him said: 'Peace! We have no enemies but the Turks.'—His aspect, the words, and the manner in which they were proffered, made all who stood around him shudder: imagine what effect they would have had upon the enemies! Marcantonio Colonna, who stood by him, related to me that in the fierce sparkling of the eyes of this magnanimous Prince he seemed to read the death sentence of twenty thousand infidels. Veniero pressed the invincible hand, kissed it, and could not help exclaiming with sobs: 'Unfortunate Bragadino! Unhappy blood!' Both Spaniards, Germans, and Italians, laying aside all animosity, threw their arms weeping around each other's necks, kissed each other's cheeks, and cried:—'Peace!'—Then with a sudden change they thrust their hands in their hair, stamped the pavement with their feet, and with loud voices cried:—'To arms, to arms!'—Be it so!—replied Don John, unsheathing his sword, which, glittering in the rays of the Sun, seemed to send forth sparks of divine fire; and ordered to be unfolded upon his galley the banner of the League sent by the Pope, whereon was painted the Crucifix, and beneath it the escutcheons of the Allies, in the middle that of the Pope, on the right that of the King of Spain, and on the left that of the Venetians. The wind, and it was no small omen of victory, unfolded through the air the glorious banner, so that it seemed as if invisible hands held it spread by the four corners; and Don John, fixing his eyes upon it with pious enthusiasm, exclaimed:—In hoc signo vinces!—In hoc signo vinces! exclaimed those near him, and these sacred words spread like lightning, and were in a moment repeated from the most distant ships. The great Comendador, who had had a secret order from the king to hinder the enterprise, whether he thought it too dangerous to oppose it, or that he was carried along by the universal consent, changing his conduct and bearing, showed more enthusiasm than the others, and murmured often:—They may order us from Madrid to remain quiet, but before the enemy one cannot obey such mandates!—

"Another circumstance in which we saw the hand of God openly manifested was this, that the enemy being distant, and able to avoid a battle—and in fact some of their captains had advised it—there suddenly arrived some spies who notified them that the greater part of the Christian fleet had remained behind. This information was partly true, but had been a thousand fold exaggerated by report; for the only truth was, that the twenty-six galleys commanded by Don Cæsar Davalo of Arragon, who was then in great grief mourning the death of his brother the Marquis of Pescara, and who together with Don John had been appointed as commander-in-chief of the whole enterprise, had set sail late, and did not arrive in time. Upon these ships were the German infantry commanded by the Counts Alberigo Lodrone, and Vinciguerra d'Arco, so that, the battle having been won principally by the efforts of the Italians, we lost no glory on their account. Our spies also led us into the same error, for they, badly informed, reported to us that in the Turkish fleet Aluch Ali, Dey of Algiers, with his eighty galleys was wanting. Thus the desire of fighting on both sides was very great, each thinking to have the advantage over the other. Ali Pasha, Grand Admiral of the sea, finding the wind in his favor, without any longer delay moved all his fleet with much haste, but little order, from the Gulf of Lepanto. The knight Gildandrada, sent out to reconnoitre, returned the sixth of October, which was Saturday, in the dead of night, to notify us of the approach of the enemy: we sailed all night, and the next morning at dawn the seventh of October, the day of the Virgin St. Giustina, we came abreast of the Curzolares Islands, anciently called Echinades, about thirty-five miles distant from Lepanto. At this moment Giovanni Andrea Doria returned, notifying us to prepare for battle, for the Turkish fleet, favored by the wind, was coming upon us. Then Don John with great calmness ordered the fleet to be formed in battle array, which was this: the galleys were divided into a centre, two wings, an advanced guard, and a rear guard, so that it represented the form of an eagle.—Giovanni Andrea Doria commanded the right wing with fifty-three galleys, and hoisted a green flag on the mainmast of his ship. Agostino Barbarigo led the left wing with as many galleys, hoisting a yellow flag. Don Alvaro di Baxan, Marquis of Santacroce, was appointed to the command of the rear-guard with thirty galleys, and displayed a white flag on his ship, ready to come to assistance wherever the need required. Don John of Cardona, also carrying a white flag, led the advanced-guard with eight galleys. The centre, or as they call it, the battle, consisting of sixty-one galleys, was under the command of Don John, with a blue flag at the mast-head; and as they expected that the greatest efforts of the enemy would be turned in this direction, they placed in defence of the Real galley, on the right the Capitana[57] of the Pope with General Marcantonio Colonna, Romagasso, and other Knights; on the left the Venetian Capitana, with General Sebastiano Veniero, after which was the Capitana of Genoa with Alessandro Farnese, Prince of Parma, and on the other side the Capitana of Savoy with Francesco Maria della Rovere, Duke of Urbino: the sides of this battle were closed on the right by the Capitana of Malta, on the left by the Capitana Lomellina, where I was;—aside the stern of the Real stood the Capitana and Padrona of Spain with the great Comendador Requesens. It was a very wise plan, as the effect showed, that of towing the six Venetian galeazzas, each armed with four hundred chosen arquebusiers, sixty brass cannons, bombs and rockets of all kinds, about half a mile ahead of the fleet; two of them commanded by Andrea Pesaro and Pietro Pisani in front of the right wing; the other two of Agostino and Antonio Bragadino, before the left; and the last two of Giacomo Guoro and Francesco Duodo in front of the battle.—Alas! why have I not a poetic genius, and why does not all Christendom listen, that I may extol with song, which makes even mortals eternal, those magnanimous men who came voluntarily to take a part in this memorable day? I would pray the Mother of God to recall to my memory the names of all the brave who conquered living, and the martyrs who conquered dying, and particularly the last, for although I believe that they are rejoicing now in the celestial abodes, yet the sound of deserved praise arises more welcome than incense, even to the blessed ones in heaven. But let us not pluck the laurel; for perhaps the poet will be born who with better voice will be able to dispense the deserved reward to these valorous men: it behoves us at least to hope so!—From the opposite side, borne by a north-east wind which blew favorably to it, the enemy's fleet advanced, occupying a larger space of water, hastily and in disorder, as if to exterminate us, and fearing to lose the opportunity of a certain victory. It was in the form of a crescent, and consisted of three hundred or more ships. Ali Pasha, Grand Admiral, and Pertau, general of the troops, commanded the battle: Siroco, Governor of Alexandria, and Mehemet Bey, Governor of Negropont, led the right wing; Uluch Ali, Dey of Algiers, the left. The Turkish Real was no less strongly defended than ours, having at its sides six of the principal galleys, three on one side, and three on the other, upon which on the right were Pertau, Mamud Rais, captain of the janissaries, Lader Bey, governor of Metelin, and on the left Mustapha, treasurer, Caracoza, governor of Velona, and Carajali, captain of the Corsairs. Don John, as soon as he saw his fleet in order, went in a light barge flying from galley to galley, encouraging the men with very short but vigorous words to fight bravely, for the time, the place, and his nature did not allow of a long speech. It is said that when he came under the Capitana of Venice, in seeing Sebastiano Veniero, an old man of three score years and ten, all armed with a sparkling and splendid armor, with his head uncovered showing his white locks, his face burning with martial fire inciting his men to act valorously, admiring the bravery of the man, he cried to him:—Father! Bless us all....—And Veniero, raising his eyes to heaven, as if begging from on high the power of blessing, stretched his arm, and making the sign of the Cross exclaimed:—Be all blessed in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.—From all the galleys there then issued forth a shout foreboding approaching slaughter."

"I remember," interrupted Titta, "that when he arrived under our Lomellina, he kissed his hand to us, and cried:—Brave men, I say nothing to you!—and disappeared."

"The Capuchin friars and the Jesuits with crucifixes in their hands, fearless of the imminent danger, ran up and down the galleys, cheering all spirits, granting to all the remission of their sins, innumerable indulgences, and a certain hope of conquering, and immense booty.

"When Don John returned on board his galley, he noticed at a little distance a small vessel full of powerful rowers as if waiting: he inquired about it of the captain, who replied:—he had it prepared for any emergency that might happen, in order that he could retreat;—and Don John replied fiercely:—Sink it to the bottom; for I swear to God that I had rather die fighting for Christ, than escape with shame.—And to the Comendador, who by duty of his office warned him to think better before adventuring on a decisive battle, he replied:—Now the time for counsel is past; it is the time for combat.

"The Turkish Real begins to fire: the sound of the artillery is spread; the signal is given, our Real replies; the battle is engaged. It was the design of the enemy to push forward with the wind in their favor in the shape of a crescent, surround our wings, pass behind, and enclose us in a circle of death. They took little notice of the six galeazzas, and those valorous Venetians did not stir until the enemy was within half an arquebuse-shot; then, suddenly, and at the same moment, they fired three hundred and sixty cannons, and two thousand four hundred arquebuses! The terrible noise astounded even those who had caused it; the sea shook as if by a storm, and the galleys, hurled by a most violent shock, began to roll in disorder; but our men very soon regained their spirits on discovering the great damage done to the enemy, and loading their arquebuses with wonderful readiness continued to fire desperately upon them. And I desire you to know that on this occasion the arquebuse with a lock was of great service to us, for being small, and easy to manage, it enabled our men to fire three times before the enemy could fire once with their heavy ones: and this was the first moment of our victory. Skill conquered fury, and the Moslems, unaccustomed to such encounter, had to keep their distance all torn and bloody, change the order of battle, and form themselves into three divisions like us.

"Although the valor of our men was very great, yet the Lord wished to show with a more visible sign that he was fighting for us, for just then happened a memorable changing of the wind; the north-east, which had so far been favorable to the Turks, ceased, and there arose a south-west propitious to the Christians, carrying the smoke against them, and preventing them from seeing. Siroco, in the mean while, not at all daunted, ordered his galleys to avoid the galeazzas, and, grazing the shore where the river Acheloo falls into the sea, to rush between the land and the galleys of Barbarigo, and strive to assail him in the rear. Barbarigo, however, not a less skilful captain, ordered his extreme galleys to approach the land, and describe with the others a diagonal line, forming an acute angle of which one side was formed by the land, the other by his galleys; and taking Siroco in the flank, with the aid of the propitious wind pushed him towards the island. The fight was carried on desperately on both sides; but the Turkish galleys continually losing sea, struck against the shore, the Christians followed and reached them, and as many Mussulmans as fell into their hands they put to death; of the galleys some fell into our hands, others were sunk by the artillery, others burnt. We did not, however, gain the victory without blood, for, to say nothing of many others, in the very heat of the melée between Siroco and Barbarigo, almost at the same moment the former fell dead, and the latter mortally wounded with an arrow in his eye, in the act of removing the shield from before his face, in order to spur the combatants to do their utmost. Barbarigo, feeling himself mortally struck, whilst staggering back, appointed in his place Mario Quirini, who, seconded by Antonio Canale and by Cicogna, followed the course of victory, destroying the remains of this fleet commanded by Mehemet Bey, Pasha of Negropont, and by Ali, the redoutable Corsair. It was in this action that Cicogna, wounded in the hands and face by a grenade, bearing manfully the most intense pain, would not retire until he had taken the enemy's galley, which now is preserved as a noble trophy in the Arsenal of Venice; and the valiant Antonio Casale dressed with a long and white garment thickly lined with cotton, a hat of the same material and shoes of ropes in order not to slip, swinging a double-handed sword, filled with terror and slaughter the enemy's galleys upon which he leaped with wonderful dexterity and nimbleness. Giovanni Contarini had the glory of taking the galley of Siroco, and finding on it this enemy of the Christian name dead, had his head cut off and fixing it upon a spear cried out three times:—Behold the head of Siroco!—in order to encourage his men, and terrify the enemy.

"The dying Barbarigo was lying near the wheel, and from time to time asked those around him:—Have we conquered yet? When Quirino, tearing the flag from the enemy's mast, ran to where Barbarigo was, crying:—Victory!—the dying man wiped the blood from his eyes heavy with death's sleep, and saw the hated flag, and smiled; then he begged them to hand it to him, and grasping it convulsively, he rolled himself in it as in a winding sheet, and expired. We, daring not to separate him from the trophy upon which his glorious soul breathed its last, wrapped in the same flag buried him with great honors in consecrated ground.

"But the greatest struggle took place around the battle. Ali Pasha had come forward boldly, and as the Turks are accustomed to, with a deafening noise of drums, trumpets, and similar warlike instruments; and they even presumed to frighten us more with threats, cries, and striking of weapons against each other. Don John, armed with mail, holding a heavy battle-axe in his hand, placed himself with all his person exposed in a lofty place on the poop, and ordered Lopez di Figheroa, leader of the arquibusiers, that whatever the enemies might say or do, no one should dare to open the fire until he had given a signal by lifting his battle-axe. The Moslems advancing nearer and nearer, fired their arquebuses and arrows, with no small loss on our side; and we were also greatly damaged by two cannon in the enemy's prow, which would have cleared our decks if they had been quicker in loading and firing them. It seemed hard to us to be forced to remain inactive during so great a slaughter, so much the more as from time to time we saw some friend or relative fall at our side, removed all bleeding, and carried below. We should have accused Don John of cowardice, if we had not known what a man he was; and looking at him, he seemed to us a statue of bronze amid bullets and arrows which hissed around him, and of which he took no more notice than of the wind which lifted his hair. When the Turkish Real arrived within less than half an arquebuse shot from us, Don John raised his battle-axe, and whirled it impetuously around his head: our fire seemed one single shot; the smoke moving towards the enemy prevented us from seeing the damage which they had received; when it cleared off, the enemy's deck looked almost deserted. But before the smoke had entirely passed away Don John ordered the oarsmen to pull with their whole might, and the galley, pushed also by the wind, flew like a bird. Don John had also prepared another stratagem, which was this, to have the beak of his galley suddenly cut, so that, approaching nearer to the enemies, there would be a better opportunity of boarding them: this example was immediately followed by us all, and was another cause of victory.

"The smoke disappeared, and Ali's galley seemed almost deserted. Don John, seizing the opportunity, cried:—Forward, cavaliers, let us go to victory ... we cannot but conquer, for dying, there awaits us a palm in heaven; living, a laurel on the earth.—And cutting short his speech, being more eager to act, he ran impetuously forward, followed by his valiant knights, and behold in an instant they boarded and entered the Turkish Real. Ali, meanwhile, a wary captain, had called aid from the surrounding ships, who, approaching quickly, by means of ladders and ropes, ascended from abaft, whilst ours entered from the prow: thence the battle was renewed more bitterly, and all concentrated about the mainmast; the Turks were not able to expel the Christians, nor the Christians to master entirely the half conquered galley. The crowd was so great, and the ranks so close, that they could not use any other weapon than the poniard, and the combatants, crazy with fury, used their teeth as if they had been wild beasts; and one could have seen that forest of heads bending to and fro, like a field of ripe grain agitated by contrary winds. They asked for no quarter, nor desired it: it was a war of extermination. But whatever might have been the cause, behold the Christians began to waver, drew back, and the adversaries where ours raised their feet, placed theirs, and grew bold in proportion as ours lost courage: already many of the retreating, pressed by the irresistible impetus, fell headlong into the water, others more fortunate leaped upon the Real of Spain.... What more? Don John himself is carried along in the shameful flight. Our commanders, though, not less wary than the enemy, had already reinforced the Real with fresh troops, who coming to the rescue not only prevented the Turks from boarding our galley, not only held them steadfast upon the extreme edge of the prow, but pushed them back forcibly, and gave a chance to ours to board again the Turkish Real. A new struggle was engaged upon the galley's deck, and already for more than an hour blood had been shed, nor could it be told where victory would lean; the deck was covered with blood, all along the gangways, down in the sides the galley drips blood, the sea raising its foam horribly red seemed to boil with blood. Alas! what cruel wine war pours in her banquets!—Four times were we repulsed, four times we boarded the Turkish Real: torn on both sides, on both sides many illustrious dead, and the surviving ones partly wounded, partly so exhausted, as not to be able to raise their swords. In one of these struggles the valorous knight Bernardino Cardine was killed without any wound: a cannon ball struck his shield, which, being covered with excellent steel plate, did not break, but hit so violently against his breast, that he fell dead on the deck. And the last time Don John was repulsed, another noteworthy accident happened; he was retreating without ever turning his head from the enemy, when either his foot slipped upon the gory deck, or by some other accident he fell, and was on the point of falling headlong into the water, had it not been for a Spanish soldier, who had never departed from his side, and who seizing him by the waist with his right hand, held himself fast with his left in the rigging. Suddenly the soldier uttered a cry; his left arm hung down severed, he and Don John would have fallen overboard, had not the Spaniard happened to seize a rope with his teeth, and hold fast to it until, with ready aid, they were both saved.

"Don John unhurt prepared himself for the last struggle.—Valiant men, he cried, yet one last effort, and we have conquered.—Whilst he was about reorganizing his Spanish knights, who on that day showed really a Roman valor, two events happened which gave us the victory. The galley commanded by Alfonzo d'Appiano thundered with its artillery on the Turkish Real, and being of low deck, sent its shots into the hull of the enemy, destroying everything they met, and this was one of the chief things to which we owed our victory. A shot hit a large beam, and hurled it with so much violence against Ali, that he, hurt in many places, struck violently against the mainmast, and gushing blood from many wounds, fell down dying upon the deck.—Now what was Marcantonio Colonna doing? Had his valor, the memory of past deeds, the warmth with which he had undertaken this enterprise, failed him all at once, and in this great moment of need? How could he, a general of the Pontiff, see unmoved so much Christian blood shed?—He was sailing over the waters as if he was taking a pleasure trip to enjoy the evening breeze; he even disappeared from the deck, and no one knew what had become of him.—This most singular man had had the constancy to remain in the midst of the fire of artillery, the breaking of beams, the falling of masts and ropes, amidst the horrible and various aspects of death, without moving an inch, awaiting the opportune time of exterminating the enemy: when he perceived the chance before him, he rushed below deck, and addressing the galley-slaves at the oars, thus spoke: Men! God had redeemed you, and you have rendered yourselves unworthy of the redemption; the water of baptism was poured on your heads in vain, for you have so contaminated them with wicked deeds, that there is no more room for a blessing. You despair of your eternal safety. Your mothers, your wives, your children, whenever in this world they proffer your name, bow down their faces for shame; the citizens look upon you as wild beasts. Heaven repulses you, and the earth abhors you. No matter, I will reconcile you both to God and men: I can so do that your names shall be recalled with pride by your relatives; I can so do that the hand of the most noble knight of Christendom shall be stretched towards yours without esteeming it dishonored...."—And those poor men cried with one voice:—"Alas! our Lord, have mercy upon us! Give us at least the chance of dying in battle."—"Be it so," replied Marcantonio, "I give you your liberty: do not move from your posts: I return on deck: when you hear the sound of a trumpet, be ready, and at the second blast, bend to your oars with the greatest strength that nature has given you. When you shall perceive that we have struck the enemy's galley, then come out, and fight as your souls may inspire you.—He returned on deck, and seizing the helm directed the prow against the vessel of Ali. The trumpet sounded the first blast, then the second. The galley leaped like a wounded seal through the water, which, struck violently by the oars, surged and gurgled, foaming impetuously; then darting over a short space struck with an irresistible impetus the designed place. The Turkish Real was almost upset: on one side the deck was plunged into the sea, on the other it even showed its keel; the greater part of its defenders was hurled with great force far into the water, and it would have been even so with the Admiral, had he not grappled the mainmast with both arms. When the galley righted, Colonna, taking advantage of the enemy's confusion, jumped on board accompanied by his men, and made himself master of it. This deed rekindled the ire of the commanders of the galleys ordered to the defence of the Real, and seven of them moved at once to the rescue, and threatened Don John. Veniero alone moved to meet them all, sustaining their attacks with wonderful valor. But that fierce old man, overcome by the number, saw every moment his men diminish; an arrow had pierced his foot, and partly on account of the intensity of the pain, partly by the loss of blood, he felt that he could withstand it no longer: there was urgent need of help, but he would not bend to ask it. Giovanni Loredano and Caterino Malipiero saw the danger of the illustrious old man, and rushed to his assistance; these two chivalrous youths could have remained behind the bulwarks, which were to us a great shelter through that battle, but their bold nature did not allow it; they stood both exposed from their waist upwards, and fighting like true champions of Christ, they fell both dead on the deck, hit by several shots. The Marquis of Santa Croce, who had already moved to their aid, arrived, if not in time to save their lives, at least opportunely to avenge their deaths: the Turks were all cut to pieces, and the galleys fell into our hands. The report tells that Veniero made himself master of the Capitana of Pertau Pasha, but it is not true, for it was the Lomellina that conquered Pertau...."

"Ah! my Lord Duke," interrupted Titta, "it ill becomes you to relate this part of the battle. It was indeed so; we conquered the Capitana of the Pasha, and in truth, if we used all our utmost efforts to conquer, the enemies also used no less desperate resistance to oppose us. I remember that the valiant Marino Contarino died in this affray; and, with immortal example, the four brothers Cornaro; alas! the flower of the most magnanimous knights was dying; but, although beset on all sides by the enemy's galleys, we did not abandon our prize, and rushed on, determined to conquer or to die. It is true that every footstep we advanced cost us blood, but they were footsteps to victory: already panting and fighting with our daggers, we reached the middle of the galley. My Lord the Duke at the head of all seemed an angel who led us to triumph...."

"And if you, Titta, had loved your master less, by this time there would only be left of him the bare bones, and the name. I recall with grief to my mind Orazio and Virginio Orsini, my relatives, who fell mortally wounded at my feet; and my nephew Fabio, who, hit by a shot on his shoulder, rolled on the deck, and died without lamenting the flower of his lost youth, happy at being called so soon to the peace of God; and I, whilst I bent down to help him, felt my left leg transfixed by an arrow, and as I lifted my head, a hand grasping a poniard was about striking me unprepared for defence; the poniard escaped from the hand, and fell harmless upon my body, the hand also fell upon my head, but severed from the arm, and with it a torrent of blood poured on my face...."

"So it was; it came in my way without my thinking of it, and I cut it off like a reed...."

"And I profess myself indebted to you for my life, and as long as Paolo Giordano Orsini shall have a heart and a home, Titta Carbonana will occupy a place in them....—Let us drink!—To the memory of the dead in the battle of Lepanto!"

"May God keep them all in His glory!"—was answered from all sides.

"Come now," continued the Duke, "let us finish the story. Our Lomellina, aided by Vincenzo Querini, took five out of the seven galleys that fought against it. Pertau, throwing himself into a skiff, using his oars vigorously, went off; and we saw the back of this cruel man turned in bitter flight. Many boast of having killed Caracozza; but the truth is that Giovanbattista Benedetti, of Cyprus, a man of great valor, having overcome the Corcut galley, noticed Caracozza near by, and rushed desperately upon him. With no less fury Caracozza fell upon Benedetti, whether driven to it by a desire for glory, or, as it was supposed, by an old enmity: they met:—a discharge of arquebuses fired from both sides enveloped them in smoke, and when it cleared off, they were both dead, shot with many bullets in the breast. The command of Benedetti devolved on Onorato Gaetano, nephew of the Pope, who, as we have heard from persons worthy of belief, seconded by Alessandro Negroni and by Pattaro Buzzacherino, with no great difficulty, brought this honorable fight to a happy end. The Christian slaves upon the Turkish galleys, noticing by the confusion that fortune was abandoning their hated masters, break their chains, and seizing those arms which despair or chance places in their hands, take a bitter revenge for their long sufferings, and insure the victory. Whilst these events were taking place in the battle, and on the left wing of the Christian armada, the right wing was meeting with an adverse fate. Giovanni Andrea Doria, who was to detach himself only four lengths of a galley from the battle, transgressed his orders, and extended his line too far. They say that he did this with a good intention, both in order to give more freedom of action to the battle, and to the left wing to place themselves in good order, and also for fear of being surrounded by Uluch Ali, who came against him with a greater number of galleys than his own; or perhaps in order to take the wind aft, so as to fall with greater force upon the enemy. But Uluch Ali, a most expert sea captain, when he saw that the galleys of the right wing, so scattered and distant, could not easily help each other, without minding that he was on the lee, beset on all sides the scattered ships with a superior force, and after killing the principal captains, took twelve of them. On this occasion the great valor of Benedetto Soranzo was manifest; a man rather to be compared to the ancient than to modern heroes; for seeing the greater part of his companions around him dead or wounded, and he himself being wounded in several places, he had not the heart to allow his galley to be trodden by the foot of a Moslem, nor that one day the enemy, refitting it, should use it against his most beloved country; therefore, rushing below where the ammunition of powder was stored, he set fire to it, and hurled, with terrible explosion, himself, the galley, and all the enemies that stood on it, torn and mutilated into the air. One alone by a lucky chance escaped, and it was Giacomo Giustiniani, who, thrown uninjured far distant into the water, succeeded miraculously in saving himself by swimming. Nor ought I to be silent about the fierce encounter of the Capitana of Malta, which, assailed by three Turkish galleys, fought intrepidly; but Uluch Ali, recognising the flag of St. John, and as he professed himself a mortal enemy to the Order of Malta, did not shame to send against it three other galleys in order to have it at all cost. Pietro Giustignano, general of the Order, seeing that there was no chance left for himself and his knights, exhorted them to die chivalrously, since there was no hope of conquering, and as to surrendering, not one even thought of it. This combat of six galleys against one, glorious for the Christians, infamous for the Turks, lasted three hours; two thirds of the rowers lay dead, the other third were bleeding; the general killed with three ghastly wounds; fifty most noble knights dead; the galley occupied even to the main castle; the banner fallen into the enemy's hands; and yet the survivors strove to defend themselves. Agnolo Martellini, a Florentine knight, who was less wounded than the others, sustained the honorable and hopeless defence. Uluch Ali, mad with rage, ordered the galley to be set on fire, but Doria, spurring his oarsmen to their utmost, reached it in time for revenge, and accomplished it; for falling upon the enemy, wearied by the bitter struggle, he made a horrible slaughter, killing Carag Ali, Captain of Algiers, with many other Turkish officers.—And glorious with fame and misfortune were the Tuscan galleys, which unfortunately were under the orders of Doria. The Florentina, assailed by seven small galleys, was empty both of soldiers and crew; Tommaso dei Medici, badly wounded, alone survived; but the greater part of the knights of St. Stephen died fighting till their last breath. The galley of St. John, commanded by the knight Agnolo Biffali, suffered a struggle no less fatal; for the captain was wounded by two arquebuse shots on the neck; and besides the knights Simone Tornabuoni and Luigi Ciacchi, there perished sixty most valiant soldiers; and worse would the galley upon which Ascianio della Cornia was fighting have fared, surrounded by four of the enemy, if Alfonzo di Appiano, admiral of the Florentine galleys, had come less quickly to his aid. But now there rang from every side the cry of victory, and Uluch Ali, seeing all the enemy's armada move against him to surround and overcome him, resolved to draw off. Don Giovanni di Cardona endeavored to oppose his retreat with eight Sicilian galleys, but thrust aside by superior force, with no little damage, he was obliged to yield the way. The Admirals Canale and Querini endeavored to give chase to him, but, their oarsmen being too much exhausted by the fatigues endured, with infinite bitterness, they had to allow him to save himself with his forty ships, our galley of Corfu, and the banner of St. John. In this flight two incidents worthy of note happened. Giovanbattista Mastrillo of Nota and Giulio Caraffa, a Neapolitan, whilst they were, with several companions, prisoners on two separate brigs, showing at the same moment the same boldness, as if they had agreed upon it before, rose against the Turks, killed the Rays and all those who attempted to resist, and having become, from slaves and conquered, free and conquerors, they returned to us with the enemy's brigs full of slaves and very rich booty.

"The sun was setting, surrounded by black clouds, throwing across the waves an oblique ray, so that it happened that the part enlightened shone with a vivid glare, while the rest of the sea was covered with darkness: to the roar of the sea were added cries, imprecations, prayers, sobs, which afar seemed like a single wail, the weeping of Nature over the slaughter of her children, certainly not created by her to thus tear each other to pieces! Within that streak of light, deeds were seen to make even angels weep; and some, but few, really worthy of the celestial origin of man. We could see some people regardless of danger, ascend the burning galleys, rush amidst the flames, without fear that, the powder taking fire, plunder and plunderers might be shattered to atoms; others not yet satisfied with fighting, urged by implacable hatred, grasping each other by the hair or beard, and, in the lack of weapons, striking with their fists, tearing each other with their teeth, and now one head, now another, disappearing under the water, until the latter, as if disdainful that so much anger should yet last in creatures so weak and perishable, whirled them into its immense bosom, to rise no more. A little further on, two, three, or four men would contend for a mast, board, or beam, in order to cling to it, and remain until some aid could arrive; but while with more charity and better wisdom, that plank of safety might have been enough for all, wasting their last strength to possess it, each one exclusively, a common fate overpowered them all; others, stupid with fear, hating to drown, would get hold of a burning fragment, and escaping the water, perish by the flames; and an infinite number of skiffs rowed on this side and on that, full of people drunk with victory, who used the heads of Turks swimming on the water for targets, as the hunter does the ducks in a pond; and to those who approached begging for their lives, they would allow that they should catch hold of the edge of the skiffs, or extend an oar as if to help them, then with the axe would cut their hands or cleave their heads with shocking and cruel wounds. A few of these skiffs went in search of some beloved relative or companion, whether alive or dead: sacred but vain undertaking! not entirely vain, however; for some succeeded in finding what they sought, and saved a dear friend from a watery grave: if yet alive, they would strive with all manner of remedies to bandage his wounds, and preserve his life; but if dead, they would clothe him, arm him with his best armor, place a sword in his hand, and honor him with praise and worship as if a martyr.

"This battle, in which more than five hundred ships were engaged, lasted from midday till after four o'clock: of the enemy there died, some say twenty thousand, some thirty thousand, and some, even more; no one counted them.[58] On our side, seven thousand six hundred and fifty-six failed to answer the roll; we liberated twelve thousand Christian slaves; took two hundred ships; lost only the galley of Corfu: of all the other ships of the enemy, except the forty escaped with Uluch Ali, some were sunk, some burned; we took one hundred and seventeen cannons, two hundred and fifty-eight smaller pieces of artillery, and seventeen mortars; the prisoners falling into our hands were four thousand, among whom were the two sons of Ali Pasha, the oldest of whom died at Naples of a broken heart; and the other was kindly treated by the Pope, and then, at the instance of Don John, restored without ransom. The booty was immense. In the galley of Ali were found twenty-two thousand crowns of gold, in the other of Caracozza, forty thousand; and in all the others a great quantity of money, weapons, cloth, and rich garments; since the Turks, thinking by merely showing themselves to put the Christians to flight, and that they were going on an excursion rather than to a fight, came provided with their best habiliments and draperies, and surrounded by all those luxuries which they were accustomed to enjoy in the security of cities; besides they brought with them the noble spoils of Cyprus and the Christian shores, which in their long voyage they had plundered.

"But General Veniero, who, having passed the greater part of his life at sea, was a cautious mariner, advised Don John to put into some neighboring port without loss of time, and selected Petala on the coast of Matalia, since the weather threatened a storm. The armada followed the command, and forcing their sails and oars, rode safely at anchor about nine o'clock in the evening at Petala, only six miles from the scene of battle.

"Don John, urged by his generous nature, ordered first of all that the wounded should be provided for, and we obeyed as well as we could; and he himself, without indulging in rest or food, visited the sick. Indeed he could be of little aid to these unfortunate people, but his friendly presence, the chivalry of his aspect, a word of comfort spoken to some one of them, rendered the pains of the wounds less bitter, and death more tolerable. Now it happened, that while Don John was passing near a wounded man lying on a heap of straw, the latter saluted him familiarly, saying: