It was a thing that went afterwards to the making of an epic that was sung from Calabria to Piedmont, how this brave knight, by his words, by the power of his will and the might of his presence, curbed and subdued that turbulent score of rebellious hinds.
And from the wall above Valentina watched him, her eyes sparkling with tears that had not their source in sorrow nor yet in fear, for she knew that he must prevail.

How could it be else with one so dauntless?
Thus thought she now.

But in the moment of his going, fear had chilled her to the heart, and when she first saw him take his stand before them, she had turned half-distraught, and begged Gonzaga not to linger at her side, but to go lend what aid he could to that brave knight who stood so sorely in need of it.

And Gonzaga had smiled a smile as pale as January sunshine, and his soft blue eyes had hardened in their glance.

Not weakness now was it that held him there, well out of the dangerous turmoil.