Filippo could scarcely believe the glad tidings, and surveyed his visitor from head to foot.  Lorenzino, noting his hesitation, called Michaele into the room crying, “Here is Scoronconcolo the Assassin, and I am Lorenzaccio the Terrible!”

“Thou art our Brutus, my Lord Lorenzino!” exclaimed Filippo, with tears running down his cheeks.  “Tarry awhile, till I can summon our chief allies, and rest yourselves.  Bravo!  Bravissimo!”

Next day alarm spread through the Medici Palace when the Duke failed to make his appearance, especially as at noon he had summoned a meeting of his new Grand Council of Two Hundred.  No one knew where he had gone.  Lorenzino was gone too, at least he did not make his usual early morning call.  All the houses of their mistresses and other boon-companions were searched in vain, but apparently no one dreamt of calling at Lorenzino’s, across the way.  Probably, it was thought, the two had gone off to Cafogginolo—­their favourite haunt.

Madonna Maria, Messer Jacopo de’ Salviati’s daughter, the widow of Giovanni de’ Medici, “delle Bande Nere,” who resided near Lorenzino, certainly heard loud cries which terrified her, but it was not an unusual occurrence.  Lorenzino had, in his villainous scheme, devised a cunning decoy to accustom neighbours and passers-by to noisy behaviour.  He had repeatedly gathered in his house groups of young men with swords, whom he instructed to cross their weapons as in serious self-defence, and to cry out “Murder!” “Help!” and such like.

The first intimation of the tragedy was furnished by Lorenzino’s porter, who kept his keys—­that of the bedchamber was missing and the door was locked!  The man sought an interview with Cardinal Cibo, then in Florence, and his former master, and told him his fears.  The door was, by his order, forced and then, of course, the terrible truth was made clear.

Under the pain of losing their heads, the Cardinal commanded absolute secrecy on the part of the domestics and guards who had looked upon that gruesome corpse.  At the same time he ordered the game of “Saracino” to be played in the Piazza close by, to remove the fears of a fast gathering crowd of citizens.  When asked if he knew where the Duke was, he replied quite casually:  “Oh, don’t worry about the Duke, he’s in bed of course, sleeping off the effects of last night’s conviviality.  He’ll appear when he thinks fit.  Go away and mind your own affairs.”

Somehow or another at last the news leaked out that Alessandro was dead, and that Lorenzino had killed him.  Cardinal Cibo convened the Council of Forty-eight to discuss the situation.  To him full powers were accorded to administer the government for three days, until a settlement was reached.  This decision was most unpopular with the citizens, who began to rise in opposition.

Just when another bloody revolution seemed imminent, Cosimo de’ Medici, the young son of Giovanni “delle Bande Nere,” rode into the city, accompanied by a few of his friends.  Everywhere he was hailed with enthusiastic cries—­“Evviva il Giovanni e il Cosimo.”