Back at Cloux we have talked and talked about Leda. What can I say to the King?
Why has he never mentioned the picture? Had he purchased it from someone? Had his father purchased it? Was it a gift? Or is it a copy? We could ascertain that if we could inspect the painting. There were too many questions for the moment. We needed to think. We needed to concentrate on our work for a few days.
We will talk to people at Romorantin...some of the Queen’s girls will talk...perhaps what Francesco saw is an excellent copy.
The weather improves...but I am depressed: I will not return to Romorantin.
In the sun (cold sun), Francesco and I ride slowly along the Loire. I hope to see Magnifico.
Horses...
Francis has some of the finest horses in France. His stables are comparable to those of the Medici’s.
Though I seldom ride now, except to walk the horse or shake my depression, I still visit the stables: I can spend hours there among their warm bodies: I note ears, nostrils, teeth, manes, tails, rumps, shoulders, hides, colors.
Colts.