“Nay; I have never seen him,” answered she.  “When he was at Rome, a year ago in the service of the Pope, I was at my studies in the convent.  His father was my father’s cousin, so that my kinship is none so near.  Why do you ask?”

“Because my story deals with him, Madonna, and it is no pretty tale.  Not such a narrative as I should choose wherewith to entertain you.  Still, since you have asked for it, you shall hear it.

“It was in the year that Giovanni Sforza, Lord of Pesaro, celebrated his nuptials with the Lady Lucrezia Borgia—­three years ago, therefore—­that one morning there rode into the courtyard of his castle of Pesazo a tall and lean young man on a tall and lean old horse.  He was garbed and harnessed after a fashion that proclaimed him half-knight, half-peasant, and caused the castle lacqueys to eye him with amusement and greet him with derision.  Lacqueys are great arbiters of fashion.

“In a loud, imperious voice this cockerel called for Giovanni, Lord of Pesaro, whereupon, resenting the insolence of his manner, the men-at-arms would have driven him out without more ado.  But it chanced that from one of the windows of his stronghold the tyrant espied his odd visitor.  He was in a mood that craved amusement, and marvelling what madman might be this, he made his way below and bade them stand back and let me speak—­for I, Madonna, was that lean young man.

“‘Are you,’ quoth I, ‘the Lord of Pesaro?’

“He answered me courteously that he was, whereupon I did my errand to him.  I flung my gauntlet of buffalo-hide at his feet in gage of battle.

“‘Your father,’ said I, ’Costanzo of Pesaro, was a foul brigand, who robbed my father of his castle and lands of Biancomonte, leaving him to a needy and poverty-stricken old age.  I am here to avenge upon your father’s son my father’s wrongs; I am here to redeem my castle and my lands.  If so be that you are a true knight, you will take up the challenge that I fling you, and you will do battle with me, on horse or foot, and with whatsoever arms you shall decree, God defending him that has justice on his side.’

“Knowing the world as I know it now, Madonna,” I interpolated, “I realise the folly of that act of mine.  But in those days my views belonged to a long departed age of chivalry, of which I had learnt from such books as came my way at Biancomonte, and which I believed was the life of to-day in the world of men.  It was a thing which some tyrants would have had me broken on the wheel.  But Giovanni Sforza never so much as manifested anger.  There was a complacent smile on his white face and his fingers toyed carelessly with his beard.

“I waited patiently, very haughty of mien and very fierce at heart, and when the amusement began to fade from his eyes, I begged that he would deliver me his answer.

“‘My answer,’ quoth he, ’is that you get you back to the place from whence you came, and render thanks to God on your knees every morning of the life I am sparing you that Giovanni Sforza is more entertained than affronted by your frenzy.’