from a wound in her own breast--a symbol of the
master's self-sacrifice.[1] I hope to return in the second volume of
this work to Vittorino. It is enough here to remark that in this good
school the Duke of Urbino acquired that solid culture which
distinguished him through life. In after years, when the cares of his
numerous engagements fell thick upon him, we hear from Vespasiano that
he still prosecuted his studies, reading Aristotle's Ethics, Politics,
and Physics, listening to the works of S. Thomas Aquinas and Scotus read
aloud, perusing at one time the Greek fathers and at another the Latin
historians.[2] How profitably he spent his day at Urbino may be gathered
from this account of his biographer: 'He was on horseback at daybreak
with four or six mounted attendants and not more, and with one or two
foot servants unarmed. He would ride out three or four miles, and be
back again when the rest of his court rose from bed. After dismounting,
he heard mass. Then he went into a garden open at all sides, and gave
audience to those who listed until dinner-time. At table, all the doors
were open; any man could enter where his lordship was; for he never ate
except with a full hall. According to the season he had books read out
as follows--in Lent, spiritual works; at other times, the history of
Livy; all in Latin. His food was plain; he took no comfits, and drank no
wine, except drinks of pomegranate, cherry, or apples.' After dinner he
heard causes, and gave sentence in the Latin tongue. Then he would visit
the nuns of Santa Chiara or watch the young men of Urbino at their
games, using the courtesy of perfect freedom with his subjects. His
reputation as a patron of the arts and of learning was widely spread.
'To hear him converse with a sculptor,' says Vespasiano, 'you would have
thought he was a master of the craft. In painting, too, he displayed the
most acute judgment; and as he could not find among the Italians worthy
masters of oil colors, he sent to Flanders for one, who painted for him
the philosophers and poets and doctors of the Church. He also brought
from Flanders masters in the art of tapestry.' Pontano, Ficino, and
Poggio dedicated works of importance to his name; and Pirro Perrotti, in
the preface to his uncle's 'Cornucopia,' draws a quaint picture of the
reception which so learned a book was sure to meet with at Urbino.[3]
But Frederick was not merely an accomplished prince. Concurrent
testimony proves that he