“Piero de’ Medici to Bibbiena.
“I beg you ask the Signory to send here at once 500 foot. With so much aid we might hold out, at least until I have made good terms.... There is not much to eat, ’tis true, but there is always something. And send off the men-at-arms to Pisa.
“I wrote to the Duke of Milan when I was at Pisa. I believe him to have reached Sarzana.... Arrange all these matters that there be no hitch.”
“30 Oct., 1494.
“Piero de’ Medici to Bibbiena.
“Last night the French lords came here to Pietra Santa, and were most honourably received. The Bishop of St. Malo tells me the King will be at Florence viâ Pisa in four or five days.
“It is to fetch me they have come. The King’s herald is with them, I am just off to Sarzana with St. Malo and two other gentle lords. Rejoice with me at the honour they have done me. These lords were sent here on purpose to receive me! Tell the Eight! Tell Alfonsina! Tell Monsignore.[[117]] Tell Giuliano!”
III.
Piero de’ Medici set out for the French camp from Pietra Santa on the 30th of October. Although the winter was afterwards so mild, the autumn had been severe, and the roads were marvellously deep with snow. All round Sarzana there extends a barren country, desolate, and full of little hills. At last a long ride of thirty miles brought the tired horsemen in sight of the French camp. The tents were pitched all round the frontier-fortress, a strong place in bad repair, which had cost the Republic fifty thousand florins not many years ago. Sarzana was guarded by Sarzanello, a fort surrounded by great towers built on a steep hill above the town. When Piero arrived the French were beginning to bombard Sarzanello with that strange, improved artillery of theirs which caused such panic in Italy. The young man, alone in the midst of an enemy he had done his best to ruin, assailed by visions of death and prison, was exhausted with fatigue, with restrained terror, and with the novelty of his position. The French lords led him at once to the tent of Charles. Contrary to his expectations, the King—a young man of his own age—received him kindly, even benignly. They were not going to kill him after all. In the exquisite relaxation of his dread, Piero sank upon his knees before the King, stammered an excuse, and hung his handsome head. “I will do everything your Majesty may require!”