riously thought of entering some monastery, and retiring from it for ever. Such intentions were more strongly entertained on the failure of some of his enterprises, or the perception of his own danger, or the annoyance of his vicious associates, and would probably have still continued intentions, but for one of the most serious and terrible events of his hazardous mode of life.
He was walking one day through the streets of the city, accompanied by a former shopman, who had been transformed by his father into a steward, followed by two bravoes. The name of the shopman was Christopher; he was a man about fifty years of age, devoted to the master whom he had tended in infancy, and upon whose liberality he supported himself, his wife, and a large family of children. Ludovico saw a gentleman approaching at a distance, with whom he had never spoken in his life, but whom he hated for his arrogance and pride, which hatred the other cordially returned. He had in his train four bravoes; he advanced with a haughty step, and an expression of insolence and disdain on his countenance. It was Ludovico's right, being on the left side, to pass nearest the wall, according to the custom of the day, and every one was tenacious of this privilege. As they met they stopped face to face, like two figures on a bass relief, neither of them being disposed to yield to the other. The gentleman, eyeing Ludovico proudly and imperiously, said, with a corresponding tone of voice, "Pass on the outside."
"Pass there yourself," replied Ludovico, "the street is mine."
"With persons of your condition the street is always mine."
"Yes, if your arrogance were a law to others."
The attendants of each stood still, with their hands on their daggers, prepared for battle. The passers-by retreated to a distance to watch the event.
"Pass on, vile mechanic, or I will teach you the civility due to a gentleman."
"You lie; I am not vile."
"Ha! Do you give me the lie? If you were a gentleman I would soon settle matters with my sword."
