'Listen, my lad,' said the dignified secretary of the Florentine Republic, 'never you despise these same small towns. In their vile alleys you can sometimes find what will make you lick your fingers for delight.'
At these words Lucio slapped Messer Niccolò on the back, and called him a sly dog.
'We will take lanterns,' continued Niccolò, 'we will wear cloaks and vizards. On such expeditions mystery is half the pleasure. Messer Leonardo, you accompany us?'
The artist excused himself.
He did not enjoy the customary gross talk about women, and avoided it with instinctive repulsion. This man of fifty, the intrepid student of the secrets of nature who could accompany criminals to their execution that he might see the last look of terror in their eyes, was often put out of countenance by a jest, did not know which way to look, and blushed like a schoolboy.
Niccolò, without more ado, carried off Messer Lucio.
IX
Early next day a chamberlain came to inquire whether the ducal engineer were satisfied with his quarters, and to bring him a present from Cæsar. According to the hospitable custom of the time it consisted of provisions, a sack of flour, a cask of wine, a sheep, a dozen fat capons; and also two large torches, three packets of wax candles, and two boxes of confetti. Impressed by these compliments, Machiavelli begged Leonardo to say a word for him to the duke, and obtain him the favour of an interview. At eleven in the evening, Cæsar's customary reception-hour, they went together to the palace.