He was no warrior himself, he swore--for it was a thing he made open boast of, affecting to despise all who followed the coarse trade of arms--and, as for his sister, it was not fitting that she should go with a fugitive party made up of a handful of knights and some fifty rough mercenaries, and be exposed to the hardships and perils that must be theirs.

Not even when he was reminded that the advancing conqueror was Cesare Borgia did it affect him, for despite his shallow, mincing ways, and his paraded scorn of war and warriors, the Lord Filippo was stout enough at heart.

He did not fear the Borgia, he answered serenely, and if he came, he would offer him such hospitality as lay within his power.
He came at last, did the mighty Cesare, although between his coming and Giovanni's flight a full fortnight sped.

As for myself, I spent the time at the Sforza Palace, whither the Lord Filippo had carried me as his guest, he being greatly taken with me and determined to become my patron.

We had news of Giovanni, first from Bologna and later from Ravenna, whither he was fled.