del Duomo, where the royal procession was to pause for religious
purposes. The distinguished party attracted the notice of all eyes as
it entered the piazza, but the gaze was not entirely cordial and
admiring; there were remarks not altogether allusive and mysterious to
the Frenchman's hoof-shaped shoes--delicate flattery of royal
superfluity in toes; and there was no care that certain snarlings at
"Mediceans" should be strictly inaudible. But Lorenzo Tornabuoni
possessed that power of dissembling annoyance which is demanded in a man
who courts popularity, and Tito, besides his natural disposition to
overcome ill-will by good-humour, had the unimpassioned feeling of the
alien towards names and details that move the deepest passions of the
native.

Arrived where they could get a good oblique view of the Duomo, the party
paused. The festoons and devices placed over the central doorway
excited some demur, and Tornabuoni beckoned to Piero di Cosimo, who, as
was usual with him at this hour, was lounging in front of Nello's shop.
There was soon an animated discussion, and it became highly amusing from
the Frenchman's astonishment at Picro's odd pungency of statement, which
Tito translated literally. Even snarling onlookers became curious, and
their faces began to wear the half-smiling, half-humiliated expression
of people who are not within hearing of the joke which is producing
infectious laughter. It was a delightful moment for Tito, for he was
the only one of the party who could have made so amusing an interpreter,
and without any disposition to triumphant self-gratulation he revelled
in the sense that he was an object of liking--he basked in approving
glances. The rainbow light fell about the laughing group, and the grave
church-goers had all disappeared within the walls. It seemed as if the
piazza had been decorated for a real Florentine holiday.

Meanwhile in the grey light of the unadorned streets there were
on-comers who made no show of linen and brocade, and whose humour was
far from merry. Here, too, the French dress and hoofed shoes were
conspicuous, but they were being pressed upon by a larger and larger
number of non-admiring Florentines. In the van of the crowd were three
men in scanty clothing; each had his hands bound together by a cord, and
a rope was fastened round his neck and body, in such a way that he who
held the extremity of the rope might easily check any rebellious
movement by the threat o