Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

by Robes We ee ESSER BANDELLO, _Ing bitterness, noted the gay cos- tumes of those others in the duke’s antechamber as he awaited his turn for with increas- audience. Even the lowest-paid mercenary in the service of the Borgia seemed better fitted than he to play the courfigr.. He had impatiently submitted himsel fingers of his wife before he left their wretched lodging, yet nothing could efface the patches on his elbows and the rude cobbling of his oft-mended shoes. And the artist was young enough to set great store upon little things, and to magnify the pricking of poverty into a_ soul-searing agony of shame. As the duke’s secretary, horn spectacles on nose, pen behind projecting ear, came out and beckoned to each in turn, the artist started forward, only to fall back in chagrin. The secretary had promised him that that afternoon he should show his latest canvas to the duke, not for love of the arts, -mark you, but counting on a share of the ducats which might come from his master’s treasury. Ducats! And had not his wife told him that day that between them and starvation, between them and a lodging under the stars, were but five beggarly soldi. Five ,copper pennies! Dio mio! And a wife who did nothing but weep or sit silent with eyes full of reproach. ‘“‘ Messer Jacopo!’ He started. 9 ARGOSY o the deft. The secretary, with familiar gesture, was beckoning to him, and, picking up his can- vas, the artist followed him into the great room. Cesar Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, re- clined on a couch behind a long table with half-closed eyes. As his eyes opened and fell upon the shabby painter, he hastily passed the gold, perfumed smelling-ball be- neath his nostrils. diligently in his ear, while the artist, with trembling hands, unwrapped the covering of the portrait and, setting it upon a chair, stood back. burning eyes followed each movement of the hoped-for patron. Behind the back of the duke the secre- tary motioned to the painter to stand far- ther back that his master’s nostrils might not be offended by the odor of poverty which too plainly attended the suppliant. “What think you, master secretary?” asked the duke at last. ‘‘ Messer Bandello is a youth of talent,”’ the secretary answered humbly. ‘The coloring is not bad,” sniffed the duke daintily. : ‘“‘ Who is your master?” The secretary whispered © ‘“T studied a short space with Messer Leonardo da Vinci, excellency,” faltered the painter. ‘“So I was not wrong in my taste; but the subject, Messer Bandello, the subject pleases us not. A portrait?” ““ My wife, excellency.” ‘“‘ Then it behooves you to get a new wife, my good fellow,” said the duke briskly, 481 CoMmlcbooo S (C(O) inn