Note [234] page 138. Regarding Giantommaso Galeotto, Cian furnishes no information. The Spanish annotator, Fabié, adds Marcio (Marzio) to his name,—thus apparently treating him as identical with the Galeotto da Narni mentioned above at page 136,—and says that he “died, by reason of his great corpulence, from a fall from his horse, being in the train of Charles VIII of France, when the latter entered Milan.” As “My lord Prefect” was only four years old when Charles entered Milan in 1494, this identification seems clearly erroneous.
Note [235] page 139. Filippo Beroaldo, (born 1472; died 1518), belonged to a noble Bolognese family. Having been one of his famous uncle Filippo the elder’s most brilliant pupils in the classics, he was at the age of twenty-six made professor of literature at Bologna, and afterwards at Rome. In 1511 he successfully defended Duke Francesco Maria of Urbino against the charge of murdering Cardinal Alidosi. Instead of seeking to extenuate the deed, as done in heat and under strong provocation, he boldly justified it on the ground that his client was the instrument chosen by the Almighty to rid the world of a monster of wickedness, and eloquently appealed to the tribunal to spare a hero whose promise of future usefulness was precious to Italy. Beroaldo was secretary to Cardinal Giovanni de' Medici, and on the latter’s election as pope, he was made Provost of the Roman Academy, while at Inghirami’s death he was made Librarian of the Vatican, as a reward for editing the recently discovered first five books of Tacitus’s Annals. He died at Rome, partly (it is said) from vexation at not being paid the stipend of his office. Bembo wrote his epitaph. Although he was celebrated for erudition and eloquence rather than for authorship, he left three books of odes, and one of epigrams,—in Latin.
Note [236] page 139. The pupil obviously used the phrase in its low Latin meaning, “Master, God give you good evening.” Beroaldo jocosely accepted it in its classical meaning, “Master, God give you good, late.”
Note [237] page 139. “Evil to thee, soon.”
Note [238] page 139. Diego de Chignones, (died 1512), was a Spanish cavalier, of whom Branthôme writes as follows: “This Great Captain had for lieutenant, with a company of one hundred men-at-arms, Don Diego de Quignones, who supported him in his combats and victories, and was truly a good and brave lieutenant to him. After the Great Captain’s death, he had sole command of his company of an hundred men-at-arms, as he well deserved to have. He commanded it at the battle of Ravenna, where he died like a brave and valiant captain. And if all had behaved as he did (say the old Spaniards), the victory that the French won there would have cost them dearer than it did, although it cost them dear.”
Note [239] page 139. Don Gonzalvo Hernand y Aguilar, better known as Consalvo de Cordoba, or The Great Captain, (born 1443; died 1515), was a native of Montilla, near Cordova, and belonged to an ancient family of Spanish grandees. His father’s name was Pietro, and his mother’s was Elvira Errea. Bred to war in early youth and knighted on the field of battle at the age of sixteen, he followed the fortunes of Ferdinand the Catholic, and took an active part in the conquest of Granada. In 1494 he was sent to Italy to aid Ferdinand II of Naples against Charles VIII, won a long succession of victories over the French, and was finally made Constable and Viceroy of Naples. Later, Ferdinand the Catholic, listening to slanderous reports regarding him, deprived him of office, and in 1507 recalled him to Spain, where he died in disgrace. His good qualities were much admired by Castiglione, who had fought against him, but his fame was not unstained by acts of cruelty and bad faith, which (it is fair to say) were common at the time and seem to have been committed only against his master’s foes. Giorgione is said to have painted his portrait at Venice, and a life of him by Paolo Giovio was published at Florence in 1552.
CONSALVO DE CORDOBA
“THE GREAT CAPTAIN”
1443-1515
Enlarged from a negative, specially made by Alinari through the courtesy of Professor I. B. Supino, of Annibal’s medal in the National Museum at Florence. See Armand’s Les Médailleurs Italiens, i, 176.
Note [240] page 139. The Spanish word vino means not only “wine” but also “he came.” In pronunciation it would be easily mistaken for Y-no. Y no lo conocistes is the Spanish for “And thou knewest Him not.” Compare St. John, i, 11.