e it, and as the picked troops advanced into close
view, they could be seen all the more distinctly for the absence of
dancing glitter. Tall and tough Scotch archers, Swiss halberdiers
fierce and ponderous, nimble Gascons ready to wheel and climb, cavalry
in which each man looked like a knight-errant with his indomitable spear
and charger--it was satisfactory to be assured that they would injure
nobody but the enemies of God! With that confidence at heart it was a
less dubious pleasure to look at the array of strength and splendour in
nobles and knights, and youthful pages of choice lineage--at the bossed
and jewelled sword-hilts, at the satin scarfs embroidered with strange
symbolical devices of pious or gallant meaning, at the gold chains and
jewelled aigrettes, at the gorgeous horse-trappings and brocaded
mantles, and at the transcendent canopy carried by select youths above
the head of the Most Christian King. To sum up with an old diarist,
whose spelling and diction halted a little behind the wonders of this
royal visit,--"_fu gran magnificenza_."

But for the Signoria, who had been waiting on their platform against the
gates, and had to march out at the right moment, with their orator in
front of them, to meet the mighty guest, the grandeur of the scene had
been somewhat screened by unpleasant sensations. If Messer Luca Corsini
could have had a brief Latin welcome depending from his mouth in legible
characters, it would have been less confusing when the rain came on, and
created an impatience in men and horses that broke off the delivery of
his well-studied periods, and reduced the representatives of the
scholarly city to offer a makeshift welcome in impromptu French. But
that sudden confusion had created a great opportunity for Tito. As one
of the secretaries he was among the officials who were stationed behind
the Signoria, and with whom these highest dignities were promiscuously
thrown when pressed upon by the horses.

"Somebody step forward and say a few words in French," said Soderini.
But no one of high importance chose to risk a second failure. "You,
Francesco Gaddi--you can speak." But Gaddi, distrusting his own
promptness, hung back, and pushing Tito, said, "You, Melema."

Tito stepped forward in an instant, and, with the air of profound
deference that came as naturally to him as walking, said the few needful
words in the name of the Signoria; then gave way gracefully, and let the
king pass on.