he Papal army to the king, who
confirmed Condottiere Giovanni de' Medici in his command.

At Borgoforte he was shot in the knee, and again at Pavia, where Francis
was routed and taken prisoner. The campaign continued and Giovanni was
always in the front rank of battle until, outside Mantua, he was
mortally wounded and died within the fortress, on 30th November, 1526,
at the early age of twenty-nine.

An interesting little story concerns the first anniversary of Cosimo's
birth. His father dreamed, on the eve of that day, that he saw his son
asleep in his cradle, and over his head he beheld a royal crown! In the
morning he did not tell Madonna Maria what he had seen in the
night-watches, but something prompted him to test the will of
Providence. Accordingly he told his wife to take the precious little
babe up to the balcony on the second floor of the Palazzo Salviati, in
the Via del Corso.

"Throw down the child," he cried from the street below. The Madonna
refused, and rated her husband for his madness, but he insisted, and
threatened so vehemently, that at last, in abject terror, she let go her
hold of her babe. The boy leaped from her arms into the air, and, whilst
the distracted mother uttered a wail of anguish, Giovanni deftly caught
his little son in his arms. The child chortled merrily, as if enjoying
his weird experience, and, inasmuch as he never so much as uttered the
slightest cry of fear, the intrepid Condottiere felt perfectly reassured
as to the auspicious presage of his dream.

"That's all right," he exclaimed, "my vision was no fantastic
picture--my bonnie boy will live to be a prince--Prince of Florence!"

Madonna Maria, left so young a widow--she was only
twenty-five--consecrated her life to the care of her young son--just
eight years old--and, under her parental roof in the Via del Corso, she
engaged some of the best teachers of the day to undertake his education.
Cosimonino's aptitude for military affairs and his taste for chemical
studies soon made themselves apparent.

But the doting mother had a secret enemy, her child's enemy indeed, an
enemy so powerful, and by all accounts so relentless, that her life
became a burden in her efforts to shield her boy from peril. That enemy
was no less a person than the Pope!

Clement, of course, knew very well of the existence of Giovanni delle
Bande Nere's son and heir, and whilst he hailed the death of the father
as a gain for his personal ambition, he f