as I was I flung
myself upon my miserable couch. But jaded though I might be, it was
not yet my intent to sleep. Now that the half of my journey was
accomplished, I found myself beset by doubts which had not before
assailed me, touching the manner in which this mission of mine was to be
accomplished. It would prove no easy thing for me to penetrate unnoticed
into the town of Pesaro, much less into the Sforza Court, where for
three years I had pursued my Fool's trade. There was scarce a man,
a woman or a child in the entire domains of Giovanni Sforza to whom
Boccadoro, the Fool, was not known; and many a villano, who had never
noticed the features of the Lord of Pesaro, could have told you the
very colour of his jester's eyes; which, after all, is no strange thing,
for--sad reflection!--in a world in which Wisdom may be overlooked,
Folly goes never disregarded.

The garments I wore might be well enough to journey in; but if I would
gain the presence of Lucrezia Borgia I must see that I arrived in
others. And then my thoughts wandered into speculation. What might
be this momentous letter that I carried? What was this secret traffic
'twixt Cesare Borgia and his sister? Since Cesare had said that it
meant the ruin of Giovanni Sforza--a ruin so utter, so complete and
humiliating that it must provoke the scornful mirth of all Italy--the
knowledge of it must soon be mine. Meanwhile I was an agent of that
ruin. Dear God! how that reflection warmed me! What joy I took in
the thought that, though he knew it not, nor could come to know it,
I Lazzaro Biancomonte, whom he had abused and whose spirit he had
broken--was become a tool to expedite the work of abasement and
destruction that was ripening for him. And realizing all this, that
letter I vowed to Heaven I would carry, suffering no obstacle to daunt
me, suffering nothing to turn me from my path.

And then another voice seemed to arise within me, to cry out
impatiently: "Yes, yes; but how?"

I rose, and approaching the table, I took up the jug of wine and poured
myself a draught. I drank it off, and cast the dregs at an inquisitive
rat that had thrust its head above the boards. Then I quenched the
light, and flung myself once more upon my bed, in the hope that darkness
would prove a stimulant to thought and bring me to the solution I was
seeking. It brought me sleep instead. Unconsciously I sank to it, my
riddle all unsolved.

I did not wake until the pale sun of that Janu