and fought bravely
against each other, while a battle was a kind of glorified tournament. "It
is a shame," he used to say, "that a man of spirit should be exposed to be
killed by a miserable stone or iron ball against which he cannot defend
himself."

Bayard always seems to us singularly free from the superstitions of his
day, but we cannot forget that an astrologer had foretold his death from
one of these new machines of war.

When all preparations had been made for the assault of the city, the Duke
of Nemours said to the captains of the army: "My lords, there is one thing
that for God's sake we must consider. You know that if this town is taken
by assault, it will be ruined and pillaged, and many will be put to death,
which seems a great pity. We must try once, before they put it to the
touch, whether they will surrender."

This was agreed to, and the next morning a trumpeter was sent forth from
the citadel, who marched down to the first rampart of the enemy where the
Doge, Messire Andrea Gritti, and his captains came to meet him. The
trumpeter asked if he might enter the town, but was told that he might say
what he liked to those present who had the authority to answer him. Then he
gave his message, saying that if they would give up the city they should
all be free to go forth and their lives would be safe, but if it were taken
by assault they would probably all be killed.

The answer they gave was to bid him return, for the town belonged to the
Republic of Venice, and so would remain, and they would take good care that
no Frenchman should ever set foot within.

The trumpeter brought back his answer, and when it was heard, there was no
more delay for the men were already in battle order.

"Well, gentlemen, we must all do our best.... Let us march," said Gaston de
Foix, Duc de Nemours, "in the name of God and my lord St. Denis." Drums,
trumpets, and bugles sounded an alarm. The enemy replied with a burst of
artillery, and the attacking party from the citadel began their descent
down the hill, where the ground was very slippery, for there had been rain
in the night. The general and many other knights took off their broad,
plated shoes to gain a firmer hold with the felt slippers worn under the
armour, for no one wished to be left behind. At the first rampart there was
a fierce conflict, for it was splendidly defended, and while the Good
Knight's company cried "Bayard! Bayard! France!" the enemy replied with
"Marc