im with all her soul,
and was like to die of longing. Nor less ardently was he invited to join
the Companies the young Florentine lords were used in those days to form
among themselves, feasting, supping, gaming and hunting together, and
sometimes so dearly loving each other that one and all would wear
garments of a like cut and colour. But with equal disdain he shunned the
society of Florentine ladies and the assemblages of her young Nobles;
for so proud and fierce was his humour, he took no pleasure but in
solitude.

He would often stay all the day shut up in his chamber, then forth to
wander solitary beneath the holm-oaks that bordered the Ema road at the
hour when the first stars are a-tremble in the pale evening sky. If by
chance he encountered riders of his own age, he never laughed, and said
little--and that little was not always comprehensible. His strange
bearing and ambiguous words were a grief and a grievance to his
comrades--and above all to Messer Betto Brunelleschi, for he dearly
loved Messer Guido, and had no fonder wish than to make him one of the
Brotherhood which embraced the richest and the handsomest young noblemen
of Florence, and of which he was himself the glory and the delight. For
indeed Messer Betto Brunelleschi was reputed the fine flower of chivalry
and the most perfect knight of all Tuscany--after Messer Guido.

One day as the latter was just entering the Porch of Santa Maria
Novella, where the Monks of the Order of Saint Dominic kept at that time
a number of books that had been brought to Italy by the Greeks, Messer
Betto, who was crossing the Piazza at the moment, loudly hailed his
friend:

"Hola! Guido mine," he shouted, "whither away now, this bright day,
that invites you, methinks, to go fowling in the hills rather than hide
in the gloom of the Cloister yonder? Do me a favour, and come to my
house at Arezzo, where I will play the flute to you, for the pleasure of
seeing you smile."

"Grammercy!" replied Messer Guido, without so much as deigning to turn
his head. "I am away to see my Lady."

And so saying, he entered the Church, which he crossed with a rapid
step, recking as little of the Blessed Sacrament exposed on the
Altar as of Messer Betto, sitting stiff on his horse outside the
door, astounded at the words he had just heard. Guido pushed open a
low portal leading to the Cloisters, followed the Cloister wall, and
arrived in the Library, where Fra Sisto was painting the figure