He represented the songs and the deeds that were mine.
But if I did not throw wide that window and proclaim the fact to ears that would have been deaf to the truth of them, what think you that I did?
I took a subtler vengeance.

I repaired to my own chamber, procured me pen and ink, and, there, with a heart that was brimming over with gall, I penned an epic modelled upon the stately lines of Virgil, wherein I sang the prowess of the Lord Giovanni Sforza, describing that morning's mighty feat of arms, and detailing each particular of the combat 'twixt Giovanni and Ramiro del' Orca.
It was a brave thing when it was done; a finer and worthier poetical achievement than any that I had yet encompassed, and that night, after they had supped, as merrily as though Duke Valentino had never been heard of, and whilst they were still sitting at their wine, I got me a lute and stole down to the banqueting hall.
I announced myself by leaping on a table and loudly twanging the strings of my instrument.

There was a hush, succeeded by a burst of acclamation.
They were in a high good-humour, and the Fool with a new song was the very thing they craved.
When silence was restored I began, and whilst my fingers moved sluggishly across the strings, striking here and there a chord, I recited the epic I had penned.

My voice swelled with a feverish enthusiasm whose colossal irony none there save one could guess.

He, at first surprised, grew angry presently, as I could see by the cloud that had settled on his brow.