ast thirty and the shortest not less than five foot six.
Still, this was his last chance, and he did not reject it at once, but
tried to modify it so that it might help him in his straits. His plan
was to disguise himself as a Franciscan monk, so that mounted an a shabby
horse he might pass for their chaplain; the others, Galeazzo di San
Severing, who commanded under him, and his two brothers, were all tall
men, so, adopting the dress of common soldiers, they hoped they might
escape detection in the Swiss ranks.

Scarcely were these plans settled when the duke heard that the
capitulation was signed between Trivulce and the Swiss, who had made no
stipulation in favour of him and his generals. They were to go over the
next day with arms and baggage right into the French army; so the last
hope of the wretched Ludovico and his generals must needs be in their
disguise. And so it was. San Severino and his brothers took their place
in the ranks of the infantry, and Sforza took his among the baggage, clad
in a monk's frock, with the hood pulled over his eyes.

The army marched off; but the Swiss, who had first trafficked in their
blood, now trafficked in their honour. The French were warned of the
disguise of Sforza and his generals, and thus they were all four
recognised, and Sforza was arrested by Trimouille himself. It is said
that the price paid for this treason was the town of Bellinzona; far it
then belonged to the French, and when the Swiss returned to their
mountains and took possession of it, Louis XII took no steps to get it
back again.

When Ascanio Sforza, who, as we know, had stayed at Milan, learned the
news of this cowardly desertion, he supposed that his cause was lost and
that it would be the best plan for him to fly, before he found himself a
prisoner in the hand's of his brother's old subjects: such a change of
face on the people's part would be very natural, and they might propose
perhaps to purchase their own pardon at the price of his liberty; so he
fled by night with the chief nobles of the Ghibelline party, taking the
road to Piacenza, an his way to the kingdom of Naples. But when he
arrived at Rivolta, he remembered that there was living in that town an
old friend of his childhood, by name Conrad Lando, whom he had helped to
much wealth in his days of power; and as Ascanio and his companions were
extremely; tired, he resolved to beg his hospitality for a single night.
Conrad received them with