At last Gian Maria broke into speech, his voice shrill with excitement.
"Know you of any reason," he demanded, "why your head should not be flaunted on a spear among those others on the Gate of San Bacolo ?" Francesco's eyebrows shot up in justifiable astonishment.
"I know of many," he answered, with a smile, an answer which by its simplicity seemed to nonplus the Duke.
"Let us hear some of them," he challenged presently.
"Nay, let us hear, rather, some reason why my poor head should be so harshly dealt with.

When a man is rudely taken, as I have been, it is a custom, which perhaps your Highness will follow, to afford him some reason for the outrage." "You smooth-tongued traitor," quoth the Duke, with infinite malice, made angrier by his cousin's dignity.

"You choicely-spoken villain! You would learn why you have been taken?
Tell me, sir, what did you at Acquasparta on the morning of the Wednesday before Easter ?" The Count's impassive face remained inscrutable, a mask of patient wonder.

By the sudden clenching of his hands alone did he betray how that thrust had smitten him, and his hands none there remarked.

Fabrizio da Lodi, standing behind the Duke, went pale to the lips.
"I do not recall that I did anything there of much account," he answered.