fteen bravi were told off to each victim: rams and
crowbars were prepared to force the doors, if needful. All happened
as had been anticipated. The crash of the falling stone was heard.
The conspirators rushed to the scene of operations. Astorre, who was
sleeping in the house of his traitorous cousin Grifonetto, was slain
in the arms of his young bride, crying, as he vainly struggled,
'Misero Astorre che more come poltrone!' Simonetto, who lay that
night with a lad called Paolo he greatly loved, flew to arms,
exclaiming to his brother, 'Non dubitare Gismondo, mio fratello!' He
too was soon despatched, together with his bedfellow. Filippo da
Braccio, after killing him, tore from a great wound in his side the
still quivering heart, into which he drove his teeth with savage
fury. Old Guido died groaning, 'Ora e gionto il ponto mio;' and
Gismondo's throat was cut while he lay holding back his face that he
might be spared the sight of his own massacre. The corpses of
Astorre and Simonetto were stripped and thrown out naked into the
streets. Men gathered round and marvelled to see such heroic forms,
with faces so proud and fierce even in death. In especial the
foreign students likened them to ancient Romans.[3] But on their
fingers were rings, and these the ruffians of the place would fain
have hacked off with their knives. From this indignity the noble
limbs were spared; then the dead Baglioni were hurriedly consigned
to an unhonoured tomb. Meanwhile the rest of the intended victims
managed to escape. Gianpaolo, assailed by Grifonetto and
Gianfrancesco della Corgna, took refuge with his squire and
bedfellow, Maraglia, upon a staircase leading from his room. While
the squire held the passage with his pike against the foe, Gianpaolo
effected his flight over neighbouring house-roofs. He crept into the
attic of some foreign students, who, trembling with terror, gave him
food and shelter, clad him in a scholar's gown, and helped him to
fly in this disguise from the gates at dawn. He then joined his
brother Troilo at Marsciano, whence he returned without delay to
punish the traitors. At the same time Grifonetto's mother, Atalanta,
taking with her his wife Zenobia and the two young sons of
Gianpaolo, Malatesta and Orazio, afterwards so celebrated in Italian
history for their great feats of arms and their crimes, fled to her
country-house at Landona. Grifonetto in vain sought to see her
there. She drove him from her presence with cu