And in Forli itself there was a continuous whirl of amusement, festivities of every kind crowded on one, so that one had scarcely time to sleep; from the gravity and instructive tedium of a comedy by Terence to a drinking bout or a card party. I went everywhere, and everywhere received the heartiest of welcomes. I could sing and dance, and play the lute, and act, and I was ready to compose a sonnet or an ode at a moment's notice; in a week I could produce a five-act tragedy in the Senecan manner, or an epic on Rinaldo or Launcelot; and as I had not a care in the world and was as merry as a drunken friar, they opened their arms to me and gave me the best of all they had....
I was attentive to all the ladies, and scandalous tongues gave me half a dozen mistresses, with details of the siege and capture. I wondered whether the amiable Giulia heard the stories, and what she thought of them. Occasionally I saw her, but I did not trouble to speak to her; Forli was large enough for the two of us; and when people are disagreeable why should you trouble your head about them?
One afternoon I rode with Matteo a few miles out of Forli to a villa where there was to be some festivity in honour of a christening. It was a beautiful spot, with fountains and shady walks, and pleasant lawns of well-mown grass; and I set myself to the enjoyment of another day. Among the guests was Claudia Piacentini. I pretended to be very angry with her because, at a ball which she had recently given, I had not received the honour of an invitation. She came to me to ask forgiveness.
'It was my husband,' she said, which I knew perfectly well. 'He said he would not have you in his house. You've had another quarrel with him!'
'How can I help it, when I see him the possessor of the lovely Claudia!'
'He says he will never be satisfied till he has your blood.'
'He talked of making a vow never to cut his beard or his hair till he had his revenge, but I implored him not to make himself more hideous than a merciful Providence had already made him.'
I thought of the ferocious Ercole with a long, untrimmed beard and unkempt hair falling over his face.
'He would have looked like a wild man of the woods,' I said. 'I should have had to allow myself to be massacred for the good of society. I should have been one more of the martyrs of humanity--Saint Philip Brandolini!'