To this, others replied for the Duke, suggesting a score of vile uses to which the money had been put.
Then, of a sudden, a cry of "Murderer!" arose, followed by angry demands that he should restore life to the valiant Ferrabraccio, to Amerini, the people's friend, and to those others whom he had lately butchered, or else follow them in death.

Lastly the name of the Count of Aquila rang wildly in his ears, provoking a storm of "Evviva! Live Francesco del Falco!" and one persistent voice, sounding loudly above the others, styled him already "il Duca Francesco." At that the blood mounted to Gian Maria's brain, and a wave of anger beat back the fear from his heart.

He rose in his stirrups, his eyes ablaze with the jealous wrath that possessed him.
"Ser Martino!" he roared hoarsely to his captain.

"Couch lances and go through them at the gallop!" The burly Swiss hesitated, brave man though he was.

Alvaro de' Alvari and Gismondo Santi looked at each other in alarm, and the intrepid old statesman, in whose heart no pang of fear had been awakened by the rabble's threatening bay, changed colour as he heard that order given.
"Highness," he implored the Duke, "You cannot mean this." "Not mean it ?" flashed back Gian Maria, his eye travelling from Santi to the hesitating captain.