ologna
and Florence even, which he felt a momentary inclination to attack, but,
after all, continuing his march until, having arrived in sight of Rome on
the 5th of March, 1527, in the evening, he had pitched his camp, visited
his guards, and ordered the assault for the morrow. "The great chances
of our destiny," said he to his troops, "have brought us hither to the
place where we desired to be, after traversing so many bad roads, in
midwinter, with snows and frosts so great, with rain, and mud, and
encounters of the enemy, in hunger and thirst, and without a halfpenny.
Now is the time to show courage, manliness, and the strength of your
bodies. If this bout you are victorious, you will be rich lords and
mighty well off; if not, you will be quite the contrary. Yonder is the
city whereof, in time past, a wise astrologer prophesied concerning me,
telling me that I should die there; but I swear to you that I care but
little for dying there, if, when I die, my corpse be left with endless
glory and renown throughout the world." Afterwards he gave the word for
retiring, some to rest, and some on guard, and for every one to be ready
to assault on the morrow early. . . . "After that the stars became
obscured by the greater resplendency of the sun and the flashing arms of
the soldiers who were preparing for the assault, Bourbon, clad all in
white that he might be better known and seen (which was not the sign of a
coward), and armor in hand, marched in front close up to the wall, and,
when he had mounted two rungs of his ladder, just as he had said the
night before, so did it happen to him, that envious, or, to more properly
speak, traitorous Fortune would have an arquebuse-shot to hit him full in
the left side and wound him mortally. And albeit she took from him his
being and his life, yet could she not in one single respect take away his
magnanimity and his vigor so long as his body had sense, as he well
showed out of his own mouth, for, having fallen when he was hit, he told
certain of his most faithful friends who were nigh him, and especially
the Gascon captain, Jonas, to cover him with a cloak and take him away,
that his death might not give occasion to the others to leave an
enterprise so well begun. . . . Just then, as M. de Bourbon had
recommended,--to cover and hide his body,--so did his men; in such sort
that the escalade and assault went on so furiously that the town, after a
little resistance, was carried;