oyment of their rewards and privileges, and swore that they
might rest secure of his protection in all parts of his dominion. We
may imagine how the men caroused together after this reception. As
Bibboni adds, 'We were now able for the whole time of life left us
to live splendidly, without a thought or care.' The last words of his
narrative are these: 'Bebo from Pisa, at what date I know not, went
home to Volterra, his native town, and there finished his days; while
I abode in Florence, where I have had no further wish to hear of wars,
but to live my life in holy peace.'

So ends the story of the two _bravi_. We have reason to believe,
from some contemporary documents which Cantu has brought to light,
that Bibboni exaggerated his own part in the affair. Luca Martelli,
writing to Varchi, says that it was Bebo who clove Lorenzo's skull
with a cutlass. He adds this curious detail, that the weapons of
both men were poisoned, and that the wound inflicted by Bibboni on
Soderini's hand was a slight one. Yet, the poignard being poisoned,
Soderini died of it. In other respects Martelli's brief account agrees
with that given by Bibboni, who probably did no more, his comrade
being dead, than claim for himself, at some expense of truth, the
lion's share of their heroic action.

VII.--LORENZINO BRUTUS

It remains to ask ourselves, What opinion can be justly formed of
Lorenzino's character and motives? When he murdered his cousin, was
he really actuated by the patriotic desire to rid his country of a
monster? Did he imitate the Roman Brutus in the noble spirit of
his predecessors, Olgiati and Boscoli, martyrs to the creed of
tyrannicide? Or must this crowning action of a fretful life be
explained, like his previous mutilation of the statues on the Arch
of Constantine, by a wild thirst for notoriety? Did he hope that the
exiles would return to Florence, and that he would enjoy an honourable
life, an immortality of glorious renown? Did envy for his cousin's
greatness and resentment of his undisguised contempt--the passions of
one who had been used for vile ends--conscious of self-degradation and
the loss of honour, yet mindful of his intellectual superiority--did
these emotions take fire in him and mingle with a scholar's
reminiscences of antique heroism, prompting him to plan a deed
which should at least assume the show of patriotic zeal, and prove
indubitable courage in its perpetrator? Did he, again, perhaps
imagine, being next