e 12th of January, and the
royal ladies and their companions were hospitably entertained by Count
Bartolommeo Scotti, and enjoyed the luxury of warm fires and comfortable
beds!

"And now that we have arrived," wrote Beatrice de' Contrari to her lord,
the marquis, "and are beginning to enjoy these weddings for the sake of
which we have suffered so many discomforts, I am thinking seriously of
making my last will and testament."[5]

After a day's rest at Piacenza, the bridal party continued their journey
up the river, and reached Pavia at half-past four on Sunday afternoon.
Here Signor Lodovico was awaiting them on the banks of the river Ticino,
which joins the Po a few hundred yards below the city, with a gallant
company of Milanese lords and gentlemen, and himself conducted first
Beatrice and then her mother and sister to the shore. Together they rode
on horseback over the covered bridge which spans the river, and passed
through the long streets until they reached the goal of their journey,
and entered the gates of the far-famed Castello of Pavia.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] G. Uzielli, _Leonardo da Vinci e Tre Gentil donne Milanesi_, p. 23.

[4] A Muratori, R. I. S., xxiv. 282.

[5] Luzio-Renier in A. S. L., xvii. 85.

CHAPTER VI

City and University of Pavia--Duomo and Castello--The library of the
Castello--Wedding of Lodovico Sforza, Duke of Bari, and Beatrice d'Este,
in the chapel of the Castello of Pavia--Galeazzo di San Severino and
Orlando--Reception of the bride in Milan--Tournaments and festivities at
the Castello--Visit of Duchess Leonora to the Certosa of Pavia.

1491

The ancient city of Pavia, the capital of the Lombard kings before the
conquest of Charlemagne, still presents a picturesque and imposing
appearance to the traveller, who sees the red-brick walls and gates of
the old fortifications and the slender bell-towers of its Romanesque
churches rising out of the green plains on the banks of the broad and
swift Ticino. But it was a far grander and more beautiful sight in the
days when Lodovico Sforza's bride landed near the chapel on the bridge,
and in the fading light of the short winter afternoon rode at his side
through the chief streets of the old Lombard capital, or, as it was
proudly called, the city of a hundred towers. On the princely cavalcade
wound, amid a dense crowd of people shouting, "_Moro! Moro!_" up the
long Strada Nova, with its marble palaces, and newly painted loggias
adorned