“I shall go to bed,” replied Alessandro, “for I am worn out.”
“Caterina?” whispered Lorenzino.
Alessandro rose abruptly and said, “Lead on, Lorenzo, I will follow.”
Seeing his valet and confidant, Giustiniano da Sesena, he said: “We are going to Signore Lorenzino’s, but what shall I put on?” Giustiniano handed him a crimson silk dressing-gown, and asked him whether he would wear his sword and steel gauntlets, or whether his cane and his scented kid gloves would not be more suitable.
“Yes,” the Duke replied, “toss me over my lovers’ gloves, for I am about to see my lady!”
Snatching a cloak, lined with fur, and grasping a light sword in his hand, Alessandro left the palace by the garden wicket, followed by his valet and two secret guards, Giomo da Carpi, and an Hungarian wrestler nicknamed “Bobo.”
Meanwhile Lorenzino had sought the street, and at the corner he found his usual attendant, Michaele del Tovallaccino, a soldier possessed of a splendid physique, combining the soft contour of Apollo and the brute force of Hercules. His comrades called him “Scoronconcolo,” on account of his wild, lustful nature. “He could kiss and bite,” they said, “at the same time!”
“Michaele,” said Lorenzino, “I want you to kill the man who is my greatest enemy.”
“My lord,” replied the ruffian, “I am at your service. Tell me the name of the fellow who has wronged you and I will kill him right off. I would kill Jesus Christ himself if he hated you!”
“Stay at your post and I will return for you presently,” said Lorenzino, going on to his own house across the way.