Il Cavalier Compito — Facsimile, Transcription & Translation

THE COMPLETE CAVALIER: A DIALOGUE by Signor Torquato d'Alessandri.

In which is discussed every science, reason of state, medicine, meteorology, chivalric questions, and the new method of learning to fence with the spada bianca [sharp/unblunted sword] and of defending oneself without weapons.

TO THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS LORD, SIGNOR CAVALIER GIUSEPPE CESARI D'ARPINO.

At Viterbo, at the press of Girolamo Discepolo. 1609. With licence of the Superiors.

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[stamp: BIBLIOTHECA REGIA MONACENSIS.]

TO THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS LORD, MY MOST HONOURED PATRON, THE SIGNOR CAVALIER Giuseppe Cesari d'Arpino.

This little work of mine now comes, made by me for amusement and pastime rather than for any other pretension, entitled The Complete Cavalier, a true portrait of every complete good breeding, into the hands of Your Most Illustrious Lordship. And if Heaven has begrudged me the power to portray it before the eyes of the world on canvas with brushes and colours, at least this rough pen of mine, such as it is, will not be denied me, that it may go on designing it, or rather sketching it, with ink on paper. And if it does not have those living features and those tempered colours in that

manner in which his valiant hand, to the astonishment of our age, shows to whoever gazes upon his animated canvases, at least it will be seen that I had very good judgement in choosing him as my defender. And truly, against the formidable Spadone [great-sword / two-handed sword] of the valiant Braccioforte there will be no lack of slanderous tongues, and where the feebleness of my pen cannot avail, the brush of the Great Painter of Arpino will supply the want, and will defend it from whatever rage of venomous envy. Live happily.

From Viterbo, on the 5th of May 1609.

Of Your Most Illustrious Lordship,

Most affectionate servant,

Torquato d'Alessandri.

By Signor Antilogo Porta.

Sword, that adorns Braccioforte's side,
truly the stars of Heaven were friendly to you,
for as companion to honours and to labours
they gave you to a bold and frank Warrior.

To a Warrior who was never seen weary
of cutting down the lives of others, as across the sunlit
slopes one is wont to reap the golden ears of grain,
and to dispatch a thousand souls to death's bench.

Well you need bear no envy of that sword
with which the great Trojan Champion girded himself,
but you, with your Master, be more fortunate.

Sword merciful to the good, cruel to the wicked,
truly fortunate are you, since it is granted you
by fate to adorn such a side, to arm such a hand.

By the same.

What a fierce and terrible companion you carry at your side, Unconquered Braccioforte, at whose fierce splendour the dismayed peoples turn their backs and show their heels.

No smith's hand in Saravalle or in Spain made such a blade, but down among the dead shadows of the eternal fire Death tempered it, which can split a mountain with one blow.

Hence it is that neither plate nor mail avails to oppose it when it comes down impetuously, for the Diamond shatters it like frail glass.

Every sword compared to it seems a straw, and it does but little if with a mandritto [forehand blow, right to left] it cleaves from top to foot the great yoke of Atlas.

By Signor Claudio Castelletti.

When he wheels his great spadone [great-sword] round in a circle, he resembles Jove when he whirls the burning torch about; ah, a chill sweat oppressed my heart, nor did blood remain in my veins.

He would make a rapid torrent of human blood run (but only pity restrains him); he would make mountains of the plain, mountains of slain people, and of ground-up bones a plain of sand.

But you... pity, bind fast his strong Arm, and rule his hand, and against the winds, against the motes turn his blows and his wrath.

Thus may his scorns be spent in vain, for I saw the Furies when he wheels it, and Death dance gladly to his whistlings.

By the same.

You are not, great Spadone [great-sword], earthly temper, such as you seem to the eyes of others, nor did a mortal smith make you such with learned, skilful hand, you who can make fine sand of mountains.

But you, whom a hundred and a hundred arms could scarcely move, a single arm fatal to you, which alone has strength equal to your great weight, wheels you round almost like a light reed.

O great Torquato, the Arm is yours, which holds in pledge a thousand forces united in a single wrist, so that with two fingers you wheel such a Spadone.

And if between you a quarrel of honour should ever arise, I know not which of you two would be the more worthy: you, of such a weapon, or it, of such a Master.

By Signor Decio Tassi.

Death had made herself her scythe, and matter for the work still remained to her, when your sword, so powerful and fierce, turned to make [more], O Braccioforte.

And she said: equal valour and equal fortune shall the scythe and this warlike weapon have, the one in my hand, and this in the proud hand of the Warrior. Who then shall there be to bear it?

You are that one, O great Torquato; for You Death was made a smith, for You, who alone can bear so heavy a weight.

But well, O Death, [may you] envy... [him?], if of greater terror and of greater grief than your scythe is the great Spadone [great-sword] to the World.

By Signor Ginoro Stella. MADRIGAL.

When Death saw your great blade bared, she was astounded, O Braccioforte, at its lightning-flashes; but when she fixed her gaze upon your vigorous wrist, and saw it turn so swiftly in wheeling circles, the wrathful [Death] broke her scythe, and, burning with disdain, in these or similar words burst forth with great fury:

Henceforth let my scythe fall to the ground, if such a sword in such a hand will do more than it.

By the same author.
MADRIGAL.

"Go and find yourselves other weapons than iron, you cowardly folk!" he cries, brandishing his burning great sword [spadone].
"I am Braccioforte; my blade is a thunderbolt, and beside it your thin and flimsy swords are like sticks, or reeds, or ears of corn, or dry fennel stalks, for it shaves away almost every other blade as if it were fur. Against its edge, then, and against my unconquered strength, no adamantine shell can hold; for to its cut, and to my arm, the diamond looks like glass, and iron like ice."

By Signor Orazio Moschenio.

Let Fame indeed sing of Count Orlando, who cut Agramante's people into slices; let it sing of the jousts of Tristan the wandering knight, and tell of their victories, the how and the when. For part of it is lies, and part she goes adorning with fair embellishments and sets before our eyes; whereas of you it is enough only that your heavy arm should give the sign, and your lightning-swift blade.

Let it tell how, as a boy, you met the bull, laid it flat on the ground with a single blow, and, victorious, trod down its lofty horns.

Let it tell then of the time when, in perilous war, you thrust your hard breast against pikes and swords: for all of it is true, if truth itself does not err.

By Signor Manilio Grani.
MADRIGAL.

This, this is that iron [blade]; well do I know it by its weight, which makes the abysses tremble and shakes the world. This is that black Comet through which so many, before their day, have reached their end. For if to us it seems so heavy (since we are base and useless folk), to His arm it is lighter than smoke to the air, or light straw to the winds. To His arm, which can whirl it in a thousand circles with two fingers. O utmost strength, O arm unconquered and mighty, before whose valour humble Death bows down.

By Signor Rinaldo Riviera.

Fortunate warrior, bold champion, glory of the Tiber and shield of the Italian, friend to the Gaul and companion to the Spaniard, joined by blood to the foremost of the Romans.

Already the sound of your valour has been heard from the North wind to the South; and in vain the fierce Ottoman tries to subjugate the plain of Italy, since you could extinguish him with a single finger.

Wherefore the Tiber rightly scatters emeralds and gold to you from its waves, and gladly wreathes your hair with green and triumphant laurel.

The enemy already lays down his shield and ungirds his sword, and the Thracian and the Moor take fright, while Glory paints your trophies.

By an uncertain author.

How one may move sword or pike toward its right target, how the point may pierce and the edge shave; and how, without weapons, the Cavalier does not fall, though an armed warrior looms over him;

how a duel is formed and contested amid peace and quarrels, and how the bianca spada [sharp/unblunted sword] is wielded; how the air catches fire and is bedewed; and what healing hand suffices for bodies:

all is the strength and valour of Fortebraccio, against whom neither helmet nor shield avails, wisdom does not govern, and endurance is of no use;

he writes it all and works it all, and I do not keep silent of it. But to what end? Let Apollo sing, and let cruel Mars yield to the valour of rare and novel virtue.

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THE COMPLETE CAVALIER.
A DIALOGUE.

SPEAKERS
Braccioforte. Achille.

B.F. For no other reason, Achille, has your lord father, in sending you to study with me here in Rome, made you abandon for this summer your native Venice, that noble Bride of the Sea, she who cuts off the feet of rivalry, unnerves the knees of pride, chains the arms of hatred, binds the hands of force, pares the nails of Death, bends down the neck of every rebellion, seals the lips of falsehood, pulls out the teeth of time, uproots the tongue [continued next page]

[continued] to slander, draws out the gall of indignation, opens the breast to fraud, lifts the heart from every tyranny, cleanses the nostrils of wickedness, dazzles blind the eyes of envy, breaks the horns of arrogance, and binds the tresses of [Sedition?]; for no other reason, I say, than that I should make you become a Man. And this is not by teaching you whether matter is only pure potency, deprived of any act, or full of act (which for now is of no concern), so that I should be your Master of Philosophy; nor whether a thing be genus or species, abstract or concrete, univocal, and equivocal with the various analogical, so that you may be a Logician; nor still which are the choice words, sonorous, pure, bright, beautiful, clean, graceful, not archaic, very plain, and excellently bound together, so as to make you, by rendering your speech charming and polished, become an excellent Orator and perfect Poet; nor which is the array of numbers greater and lesser, perfect, superabundant, and deficient, even, odd, evenly even, evenly odd [continued next page]

[continued] and odd, so that you may make yourself an Arithmetician; nor still that I should teach you to divide magnitudes, to measure spaces, and to draw lines, and design them upon diverse and various figures of circles, triangles, parallelograms, rhombuses, tetragons, so that you may make yourself a Geometer; nor still that I should show you whether in the eighth Heaven there are so many fierce animals and fearful monsters, like the Lion, the Dragon, the Great and Lesser Bear, the Hydra, the Centaur; and whether the Heaven of Venus is distant from us ninety-five thousand five hundred miles; and that it is eleven million nine hundred and twenty miles in breadth; and that the Star Venus herself encircles [a circuit of] eight thousand and more miles; and that she is two thousand five hundred miles in breadth; and that she makes her circuit in three hundred and forty-eight days; and how the nativity of these people and those is calculated with the help of the Stars, for he does not want to see you an Astrologer, so that you may not stand all day with the Astrolabe in hand measuring [continued next page]

[continued] the Stars that are greater in size than the Earth; nor even to ponder whether Saturn is a malevolent planet, cold, dry, and pallid; and that Jupiter is quite the contrary, benevolent, warm, and moist; and that there are two Poles of the World, the Arctic, which is in the North, and the Antarctic, which lies opposite to it toward the south, upon which the ample Heaven turns and revolves; nor still that you should learn from me what are the virtues of Stones, of Herbs, of Plants, the nature of Animals, of Springs, and of all that has been done since the World was the World, for at present he does not want to see you a Historian; nor still that I should instruct you in sound and song, so that you may not stand all day sweetening a heart of enamel, let alone that of a fair and beloved girl; but rather that I should train and refine you in arms, and render you for him, in a short while, an invincible and new Mars. Therefore attend to taking from me mature counsels, new manners, sharp sayings, spirited maxims, well-founded [continued next page]

...well-founded witticisms, and ingenious lessons of arms newly invented by me with wonderful judgement, and with unspeakable strength, and the dexterity of my robust body: lessons indeed which, once I have taught them to you, and once you know how to execute them to advantage at the proper moment, as I am accustomed to do, then let whoever wishes come forward against you, for however nimble, practised and famous a fencing master he may be, you will beat him with the same ease with which a good scholar beats and defeats a rough beginner.

Ach. For pity's sake, Master, begin to teach me, for here I am under your discipline, all spirited and courageous, so as to bring you in a short space of time the greatest honour possible, since your valour gives me such daring that, although I am ignorant in arms, I seem to myself to be expert, and to fear no living soul.

B.F. Very willingly I will show you...

...this morning a good part of my martial art, which has made and makes me carried in the palm of the hand by Princes, and set at the top of the caps of bravos, and loved like a new Orlando, revered like a lofty Rodomonte, and served like another Mars. And before I come to this most illustrious document of arms, it is well that I show and teach you many various things befitting a complete Cavalier; so that throughout your whole life you may know how to make use of them, and gain honour, and acquire eternal fame; and happy you if there remains in your memory a couple of hours of the learned discourse that I mean to give you, to render you learned before the world, and immortal. Now learn first a number of the more principal problems of reason of state, so that when among Princes you find yourself discoursing upon such matter, you may leave them marvelling, astonished, dumbfounded, and mute all at once: and may they learn from you rather than teach you...

...for thus you will bring praise to your name, splendour to your Country, and honour to your Master.

Ach. These problems, yes, I am eager to learn from you, so valiant and rare, so that in occurrences I may know how to avail myself of them, and show that I know how to discourse of such important and lofty matter, not to mention question and leave valiant men in such a profession as if they were so many blockheads and owls; now begin, for most attentively I hear you.

B.F. The first problem, my Achille, will be this. What is the proper charge of the Prince. And that you may know the opinion of many, discordant among themselves, who say the proper operation of the Prince is administering Justice, others in attending that abundance thrives, others in giving ear to the poor and to the rich, and others in studies so as to be able prudently to deliberate. But I, differing from all these, say that the...

...proper office of the Prince is knowing how to maintain himself in the favour of his People, which makes him live secure, if he has it, from rebellions and from conspiracies.

Ach. Very well indeed you say, since the maintaining of abundance, of Justice, and attending to the things necessary to the State, belong to the Ministers; now to the next.

B.F. The second problem will be. Whether it is well that the Prince go to war in person. Many, treating upon this, say that it is well and necessary that he be there: because the presence of the Prince gives greater heart to the soldier, is accompanied by nobility, and the war is made with greater reputation, and with the saying of Demosthenes they hold themselves to speak well: who, conferring with the Athenians, was pleased to tell them that Philip had advantage over them, because he was present there in person. Some others there are who hold it well done that the Prince not be there, but that he wage war through Captains, giving the reason...

...that he, intervening in the war, risks his life, and puts himself in danger of losing also the State: as happened to Perseus King of the Macedonians. But for the resolution of the problem I will say that the Prince, if he has sons, ought to go, and not going, he will always be judged a fearful and vile-spirited man by my judicious peers; nor, having successors, ought he to remain behind, so that the State may not fall.

Ach. Oh, a fine problem is this that you have taught me; if I understand the others you will tell me thus, oh happy me.

B.F. The third problem will be. Which is the greater difficulty, either to acquire a State, or to preserve it. Maecenas, speaking to Augustus, told him that it was more difficult to acquire than to preserve: because in acquiring one endures much toil, with innumerable expense of gold, and with shedding of blood, and in preserving either very little. Cyrus, being of contrary opinion, said that the acquisition of the State...

...is done with daring alone, but the preserving with the greatest danger. But I say, distinguishing, that the State is either accustomed to liberty or to subjection; if to liberty, it is much more difficult to preserve it: and Julius Caesar knows it, if in his Empire he was cruelly stabbed; if to subjection, it is easier, because peoples accustomed to the servile yoke suffer any rule.

Ach. Oh, a rare distinction, to remain carved in my memory for the whole term of my life.

B.F. The fourth problem will be. Whether it befits a Prince to maintain Buffoons. Many mad humours say yes, so that when the Lord comes forth from his business he may have someone who with infamous and ridiculous actions, or dishonest jests, can recreate him. But I say no, and I greatly blame those Princes who keep them, because they come to show to the world that they are of their nature; and well did Demosthenes to the Athenians...

...reproach Philip with baseness of spirit, that he salaried Buffoons and other men of evil life and of worse example.

Ach. Oh, what do you tell me? And I believed that for a Prince to keep in his house a useless, filthy, gluttonous Buffoon brought him reputation, and not shame.

B.F. The fifth problem will be. Whether it is a praiseworthy thing that the Prince hold his blood-relatives as enemies. Many who are little loving say yes, they being barbarous and inhuman: and they say it moreover because the Ottomans practise it, who, as soon as come to the Empire, drive them out, or kill them, to live secure and peaceful in the Kingdom. But I say that the Prince must keep his kinsmen united: because they are the ones who help him to sustain the Imperial weight, and secure it for him, and render it firmer in possession. Whence, because Sextus Tarquinius stirred up the wrath of Lucretius, he was for that reason deprived of the Kingdom of Rome, to his vituperation and scorn. Let Aristotle be read, who...

...in his books of political government exhorts the Prince to keep his kinsmen as friends, and to give them succour, provided however they are faithful to him.

Ach. It is just. And the Prince who does not know how to keep the good kinsman well-disposed, will keep the subject friendly still less.

B.F. The sixth problem will be. Whether it is blameworthy that a Prince put to death a prisoner of war. Many coarse of wit say yes, and this because he comes to have killed an enemy of his, who alive can harm him, and dead cannot make war on him. But I esteem that it brings him the greatest reprehension to have him beheaded, or die of hunger in the humid and dark grottoes of the massive towers: just as I esteem that it brings him great praise if with kindness he has him treated and preserved, with the aim of restoring his liberty to him, by setting on him a just ransom price, or of exchanging him for other prisoners of his, should it happen that they be taken; whence by the saying of Livy one has...

...that Paulus Aemilius did every honour possible to Perseus King of the Macedonians, who would not allow that he throw himself at his feet.

Ach. A noble action indeed of a compassionate Lord.

B.F. The seventh problem will be. Whether it is lawful to sack an enemy City, or not. Many mamelukes, and deprived of sense, die obstinate, saying that it is not just, nor fitting, to sack, because the City comes into destruction, with damage to him who has to rule it, and they allege that Xenophon treats how Cyrus made prohibit to the soldiers that they not sack on any account the City of Sardis. But I freely say that it is lawful and honest to give a City, especially an infidel one, over to the sack: because the sack makes the Prince draw to himself the spirits of his soldiers, who, animated by the gain made, stand always ready to expose, for their Prince or Captain, their very life. Let Polybius be read, for in him one will find...

...the promise that Hannibal made to his soldiers against Saguntum. And therefore let there always be sacking, because the soldiers take heart, and grow more vigorous still: and the enemies, on the contrary, are disheartened, and turn craven.

Ach. Your saying, founded upon the Master of reason, pleases me greatly. And it is right that the soldiers be recompensed for their toils, if not always, at least some time.

B.F. The eighth problem will be. Whether it is better to give the assault to the enemy, or to await it. There are some half-Captains who say that one has great advantage in charging the enemy, because the assault brings the more vigorous spirit to the soldier: it being that the body, as Xenophon says, in moving grows more vigorous; and that Caesar at Pharsalus against Pompey moved the assault, and did not await it. But I, who am who I am, say that it is for a judicious man to await the assault: and I prove it. Whoever gives first...

the assault is also the first to exhaust itself: exhausted, weary, worn out and weakened, it goes on losing its vigour, and once lost it remains a piece of feeble flesh fit for the slaughterhouse. See Polybius and Livy, where you will find how the Tribunes of the Roman army decreed that it was better to withstand the assault of the Gauls in Lombardy; and how Quintus Fabius made minced meat of the Samnites who charged him.

Ach. Oh, what fine and curious things I do learn from you this morning! Blessed be my father, and blessed too the day on which he took a fancy to send me to you, so that I might turn out a man of valour in arms and in discourses of State.

B.F. The ninth question will be this: whether without money an army can be kept on its feet. Many frivolous, feeble folk, and people not worth a penny, say no; because just as an army cannot be assembled without money, which is the sinew of war, still less can it

be maintained without it either. Because these men have read Demosthenes and Plutarch, who speak thus, they hold forth on this matter with a beastly and ignorant arrogance, and it seems to them that no one can contradict them, all the more since the ignorant crowd is on their side. But I say, on the authority of Livy, that without money any large army can be maintained. Did the Romans in early times not keep armies without pay? Did Hannibal not do the same with his reputation alone? And I add further that it can be done without money, for give me a Prince who is a friend of the People, and I will give you more soldiers than are needed. Grant me the sack of every enemy City hostile to our Faith, into which one enters by force of arms or by treachery, and the army I have assembled for you. Give me the presence of the Prince before the enemy, and I will give you a following that stands firmer than a toad under

a hail of stones; and grant me honours and rewards which I, once the war is over, may distribute among valiant soldiers, and I will give you of them a number greater than the stars of the Heaven and the sands of the Sea.

Ach. So I believe. Oh, if you were a Prince, I know the Turk's beak, like a mouse's, would ever be waiting to be either killed by the tabby cat of your fury, or driven off by the mere yowling of your dreadful great voice. On to the next question, my Lord Strong-Arm.

B.F. The tenth will be: which is to be valued more, an army composed wholly of Cavalry, or of Infantry alone. Many and many are of the opinion, men who have set their beards to the smoke of the cannon and had them neatly trimmed every week by the razor edge of Turkish scimitars, that an army of Cavalry is of greater worth: proving it by saying that the horse are quicker upon the enemy, and swifter than the Infantry;

try; and that they can better save themselves by fleeing, and, when winning, reach the enemy given over to panicked flight, and also block his passes. But I am of the contrary opinion, and reckon the Infantry higher than the Cavalry, and the experts will say so too, and I prove it with effective and true reasons. Does the Turk, that most rabid dog, not have a most well-formed army of Horse? And in every case he is always struck by our Infantry, and little short of routed; and this because in bloody and mortal battles the foot soldiers are better than the horsemen. Read Xenophon, who affirms it. And besides, are the Foot not quicker to arm themselves and more easily put in order? Do they not make armies firmer than the centre of the earth? And especially at the time when the horned Moon, with the fixed burning Stars, gives light to the thirsty, parched earth. And then, are horses not rational. So the Foot are worth more than these

disordered beasts; set a fierce war-horse in a frenzy, does it not throw half an army into confusion? With its kicks does it not maim half a squad? And when it takes to terrifying flight, how many times has one seen it carry the Rider into the enemy's pikes and deliver him up either dead, or wounded, or a slave? If it hears the boom of the artillery being fired, does it not take fright entirely? And sometimes, throwing the Rider to the ground, does it not stamp the irons of its feet in his face? A blast of a trumpet, a beat of a drum is enough to make an army of Cavalry not merely rush headlong, no, but fly into watery ditches, or into running streams, and hurl itself from the highest mountain peaks, kissing, in their unwitting death, its thorny and stony feet.

Ach. What are you telling me! Before I knew this, I would have esteemed an army of Cavalry of greater force and valour than one of Infantry.

B.F. The eleventh question will be: whether it is fitting

that a Prince should raise a servant of his to his own level. Almost all the Courtiers, out of their own interest, say yes, and they cite the honours, favours and managements that the low-born folk had, such as Cleander, Plautianus and Sejanus, from Commodus, Septimius and Tiberius, their Lords, by whom, favoured to the utmost and loved as the apples of their eye, they held themselves in greater grandeur than their own Masters; nor did they let anyone obtain favours except through their agency. They cite also that daily one sees a Prince favour a favourite of his, who, at times, will be good for nothing but to bring him reproach. But I blame that Prince who raises up such low-born folk and keeps low the brave, the learned, and the nobly born, our equals, who serve him. If the servant is loved, he may well grant him some just income; but that he should make him equal, and almost superior, I do not know why he should do so.

Ach. A most grave error is committed by that Lord who does it, giving himself into the power of a servant of his, making him the vista of his eyes, not to say the soul of his heart.

B.F. The twelfth question will be: whether a Prince at war ought to ask aid from an equal or a greater who is an infidel. Many who are warlike only in their dreams say yes; but how much they err they will see in the mirror of the truth, which I shall speak. But it would be better for these mamelukes to set themselves to read Zonaras, so that they may understand how the Emperor Gratian affirms that it is not lawful either to give or to ask aid from infidels. Hence Heraclius, who asked aid from the Mahometans, repented of it and wept bitterly, as it is written. Aid from an enemy Religion often fails in faith, and, what is worse, offends the Ruler of the Heavens.

Ach. It is true: aid from Tyrants, from Barbarians, from Infidels, comes at the wrong hour, at the wrong moment.

B.F. The thirteenth question will be: whether the Counsellors of war ought to be young or old. Many, privileged by the title of ignorance, say that the war Counsellor ought to be old; and they prove it with the saying of Sallust and with other untrue reasons of theirs, which are these. That the old Counsellor, in giving counsel, proceeds weighed; not perilous; proceeds wise; and makes use of mature prudence; ponders the end of the counsel; and knows, by his old age, how to give counsel without need of Consultants.

But being I of the contrary opinion, I say that the war Counsellor ought to be young, because he has the blood more boiling in his veins, the spirits more ardent, and the mind more ready for heroic deeds than the old man; whence, bold, not indeed through rashness, but through youthful discipline, he resolves, at a turn of the eyes, and counsels whether an army ought to march, or set itself in battle order, to strike, or to besiege, to give the assault, or to await it, to scale

ladders, or to lay mines, to set fire, or to spare, to commit treachery, or to withdraw, to lay ambushes, or to close the passes, to plunder, or to take slaves, and finally to quarter or to break camp. Nor do I say this because I am young, for if I am of few years, having twenty-two, all Italy well knows by now that I bear on the tree of my youth both unripe and ripe fruits of counsel, from which Princes do not disdain, every day, with their own hands, to pluck some one of them and taste it.

Ach. I believe it of you; every mortal who is wise holds you for that great and famous brave Counsellor which you truly are; whence the fame of your valour, arrived at the sphere of heaven, now dances and dwells with it.

B.F. The fourteenth and last question will be: which is better, to wage war on Land or on Sea. A question, in truth, as difficult as it is fine; and to give all my opinions, I leave aside the

opinions of the little-warred Braggarts and Slingshotters [empty boasters], my capital enemies, who, in the Adriatic Sea of this pretty and curious question, fish not for fish but for absurdities, worthy of blows to the chest and of dyed caps [i.e. the marks of fools]. And to begin, I say that it seems it is better to wage war on Land than on Sea, which is lorded over by the impetuous gusts of Aeolus, as Vegetius affirms; and for no other reason than that it swallows up the wretched and the ill-provided. Battle on the Sea is not good for fearful, base and cowardly soldiers, no, but for the courageous and spirited; and the reason is that the poltroons can well take fright and be terrified, but not indeed flee, for water is not land that would sustain them upon itself, save by swimming; and so firm, as if planted at the lances, at the arquebus fire the corselets [armoured men], and the bulwarks at the cannonades, against their will they stand: whereas on Land, at dangers, to save their

...skin without a scratch, they would flee. Battle on land is also better, one opinion seems to tell me, because the soldier, seeing himself wounded and in the hands of the swinish enemy, could perhaps save himself by throwing himself to the ground and feigning death, with that fox-like trick: whereas, wounded, if he threw himself into the salt water and pretended to be dead, he would drown and become food for greedy sardines. Another opinion also tells me that it is better to wage war on land; and this because the seasoned soldier knows how to turn his back to Phoebus [the sun], so that with his golden and burning rays he blinds the enemy: he also takes advantageous ground, and lays ambushes for them that are impossible to avoid. But another opinion now draws near to me, and tells me to conclude that it is better to wage war at sea than on land; because the dust does not blind you: and if on land you tire your hands and feet, at sea only the arms are wearied, in cutting, slicing and mincing the enemy, and carving him up like a cucumber.

Ach. But answer me a little on this, Signor Braccioforte; and then, once made clear of the truth, I grant you the doubt as rightly judged. Fighting on land does not make the head spin and ache, nor bring on vomiting as the sea does: therefore battle on land is better than battle at sea, so long as it does not stupefy you and does not stir the guts within the body.
B.F. I answer you, my Achille, that, because the sea brings on these two effects, the remedies are therefore kept ready aboard the ships, so that by their virtues the sea may do no harm, and may the less afflict, on land, whoever uses them.
Ach. Do you know how these remedies are compounded? For I should like you to do me the favour of teaching them to me.
B.F. Whether I know them? And in what manner! Nor do I think there is any ailment on land for which I could not give a healing recipe: and if Aesculapius and Galen, together with Hippocrates, were great men in medicine, I hold myself nothing less than they, indeed greater, if all that they

...which they have composed, I have seen it, and to that which was wrong I have countered it; but they have not yet seen mine, which makes marvel as much of the earth as fair Apollo encircles; and what makes me more valiant than they is that, with things never thought of by them, I restore to health in a few hours every mortal and restless sick man: whereby the Barbers, the Apothecaries, the Physicians and the Surgeons are amazed, and pay court to me, and submit themselves, to learn from me Royal and Imperial secrets: but they bay at the Moon, for I do not wish that they should win honour and make themselves immortal with my most excellent virtues and labours, which I have acquired with tiresome sweat and by the force of money.

Ach. Ah, for that love which binds you to teach me, teach me some marvellous secrets, and first the remedies that keep the head from spinning, turning queasy, or aching at sea.

B.F. Gladly. So that at sea the head does not spin or ache, let this most perfect remedy of mine be used.

...most perfect remedy of mine. Washed aloe, three scruples; root of wild gourd, myrobalans of every sort, diagrydium [scammony resin], mastic, laurel berries, and roses, half a dram of each; saffron one scruple, myrrh half a scruple; mix everything well ground together, and make pills with the juice of cabbage-stalks and cabbage leaves, and taking three or four of them before going to give rest to the wearied and naked limbs, one gains life, a marvellous protective.

Ach. And to avoid vomiting at sea, and to retain the food, what will the recipe be?

B.F. This, which I now teach you. Take quinces well cleaned inside and out, and let them be cooked in strongest vinegar, then let them be pounded in a mortar, and put therein a little mustard in powder, and let it be well incorporated together; then, thus hot, let it be spread on a piece of linen, then sprinkle over it powder of cloves, and lay it over the stomach, and a stupendous effect will be seen. But learn...

...from me these, which now I am about to tell you, which are necessary to the Complete Cavalier as the Ensign to a Standard-bearer, as the following to a Captain, and as bread to man. And first, here is for you the way to compound a most noble unguent for burns of fire, which heals and does not scar, so many times tried out in the wars on persons roasted by mixtures of artificial fire. Take two whites of eggs, two ounces of Alexandrian tutty [zinc oxide], two ounces of quicklime washed in nine waters, and one ounce of new wax, with as much rose oil as suffices; and make an unguent, and in time of need let it be used, and incredible experience will be seen.

Ach. It pleases me beyond measure to know this secret of yours.

B.F. Here is for you a fine secret, which makes the Turk's Dog rage, since he always, or most of the time, shooting poisoned arrows, removes, to his rotten spite, from the wounds the poison that he makes.

Take asafoetida and galbanum, one ounce of each [ana], and let it be put to soak in vinegar for one night, then let it be placed over the fire until it liquefies and dissolves, then let it be strained through a piece of linen, and let that be mixed with two ounces of unguentum diabasilicon [a basilicon ointment]; thereafter let the whole be put over the wound, which has most powerful virtue to draw to itself and mortify the poison; and the wound may be treated like all the other ordinary wounds; and in case of necessity, asafoetida alone is sufficient to remove from any deep and hollow wound pestiferous poison; and if in the wound the iron [i.e. the arrowhead] had remained, let a tent [wound-plug] be made, and let it be dipped in the juice of valerian, then let it be put inside the wound, and, once put in, let it be covered with the said herb pounded, then with a bandage let it be bound tight, and it will be seen in a short time to draw the iron to itself, as straw draws amber, and the heliotrope draws the lively, lovely, and bright Sun.

Ach. Teach me, of your grace, Signor Forte Braccio, how there may be healed, in war...

...or out of war, wounds.

B.F. With a most excellent water, fit to heal every deep and desperate wound. Have a pound of new yellow wax, or as much as you wish; and let that be undone entirely at the fire in a new and clean pot, and thus melted or fused, let it be cast into a bowl, wherein there is malmsey, or Greek wine, or other liquor of white and good Bacchus; thereafter let it be drawn out from the said wine, and returned to the fire to liquefy anew; and again let that be taken off, and returned to be cast into the wine, and doing thus seven times; lastly let the said wax be taken from the wine, and put to melt at the fire, thereafter let it be accompanied with a fistful of bricks finely ground, and let it be well incorporated at a slow fire, thereafter let it be put into a glass retort luted entirely up to mid-neck, and let it be distilled for up to eight hours, and let good care be taken that the joints of the neck of the retort of the receiver be somewhat large: and when then the...

...furnace and everything shall be well cold, let the most rare water be drawn from the receiver, and put into a glass flask, which is very well sealed with wax, and with a waxed cloth, or with pasteboard, so that in no way can it breathe out, nor let it be kept in a place where there is heat of Sun, nor of fire, or stove, because it has in itself subtle parts, which easily vanish or evaporate, and fly out: it is good also (by the experiences that have been seen at Chiavarino and in Flanders) for contraction or retraction of a nerve; and if such liquor were distilled another time, it is of nature so subtle and penetrating that, putting some of it on the palm of the hand, it is seen marvellously to penetrate in an instant, and leave the place dry, as if it had not been placed there: and this water I have only taught to make to messer Martio Cavallo, Barber at the Apollinare, a man famous and rare for the true secrets that reign in him, which, in the guise of the Sun, make him shine wherever he goes.

...wherever he goes.

Ach. O stupendous water, greater than balsam!

B.F. Then for the puncture-wound, which very often comes, here is for you a most true and most easy secret. Take a sweet-apple [melo appio], that is, that apple which is eaten, which is yellow and fragrant, and, not being able to have the sweet-apple, let there be had red apples, and on the side of the flower [blossom-end] make in them a hollow, a pit I mean, lengthwise, and, hollowing out from within the core, put therein three or four grains of male incense called Olibanum, and then with the plug [tasta] of the same apple cover the hole, then set it to cook under the most burning ashes, in such a way however that it does not burn, but cooks perfectly so much that it becomes most tender, and as if liquid; then it is taken off the fire, and cut into four parts, with all the incense that is inside, then give it to the sick man to eat, which almost at once will make him break and spit out the abscess...

...and heal entirely: and of the puncture-wound I have taken more men from under the nails of bony death than I have hairs of beard on my face: and this secret of mine was learned from me also by messer Bartolomeo Boemio, Apothecary of the Ox at Torsanguigna, with whom every day we heal the sick, and win by it an immortal name.

Ach. A most excellent secret is this.

B.F. Here is another for you, which is good for one who had fallen from an enemy wall in war, and feared he had broken or cracked something inside.

Ach. This too is a fine remedy: now speak.

B.F. Take half a glass of olive oil, and into it put as much powder of cress seed [nasturtium] as would fit inside half a walnut shell, then let it be given to the patient to drink one or two times; but let the blood first be drawn from him from the common vein, for health first sudden [repente] receives it; and if from the fall he had been bruised, or made livid, let him be anointed...

B.F. ...with rose oil, and over the spot, once anointed, let him put powder of myrtle leaves and dried roses, and he will be made perfectly cured. But hear this most beautiful secret against the Plague, which in wars, because of the mortality of the soldiers, is often generated.
Ach. Speak on, for to learn it I open all my hearing to you.
B.F. Take white dittany, round birthwort [aristolochia], carline thistle, vervain, gentian, zedoary, hartshorn, of each two ounces; pound them all together with a handful of rue. Then take a large carafe and put inside it all the aforesaid things, then fill it with the best wine that can be found in the famous Tavern of the Fox at the Rotonda. And in a time of suspicion of plague, take half a glass of such wine every morning before leaving the house, on an empty stomach, having first eaten a walnut, or a fig, or two or three fronds of rue, and the soldier will be safe, so that the plague...

B.F. ...gue may never harm him. And if you also wish to know how to make a good compound against plague, which, once compounded, becomes an excellent fumigant, listen.
Ach. I hear more than enough, Sir Braccioforte.
B.F. Take mastic, cypress, incense, laurel, rosemary, cloves, [aromatic] wood, juniper, musk, rue, ambergris, pitch, nutmegs, roses, and myrtle; and all these pounded together are thrown mixed upon the burning coals, and the house is perfumed, which by plague will never be harmed.
Ach. For the scabies, greasy and dry, which embroiders the hands and thighs of the afflicted soldiers in such a way that it brings amazement, would you tell me the remedy?
B.F. And why not, my son? Here is taught to you a water which in five days heals every great scabies. Take two glasses of plantain water, one glass of rose water, and all together let them be put in a clean pot, or in a carafe for cooking water,

B.F. ...then put into it an ounce of sublimate, that is, quicksilver sublimated white, very well powdered; then set it on the fire to boil most gently for a quarter of an hour, then remove it from the fire, and once cold let it be taken and put into a carafe. Then in the evening wash the scabby spot, which should dry by itself, so that in five mornings (I mean one day yes, the next no) the man will be rendered healthy as a fish and polished as a mirror. But to finish here, learn from me this other thing, and let it suffice: because the soldier, to free himself from the hands of the enemy army, often takes to flight, and in running breaks the vein in his chest and spits blood; so here is the secret that suits it, which is in all perfection. Take dung of mice, make it into powder, and let it be as much as can stand upon a giulio [a coin]; then put it into half a glass of plantain juice, with a little sugar or penides [sugar sticks], then give it to drink in the...

B.F. ...morning on an empty stomach, and in the evening when one goes to sleep, so that in very few times he will remain most healthy.
Ach. Oh what curious and learned secrets I have learned from you! Secrets that will help me gain great goodwill in the wars where I shall go. Now I should be glad, since you are a master of all the sciences, if you would resolve for me certain hidden doubts which until now I have never found a philosopher who, with the truth in hand, has resolved for me. And first: why does man have two feet, while the ass, the bull, the lion, and other beasts subject to him have four?
B.F. I answer you that Nature, wishing man to walk upright and tall and to contemplate the Heaven, did not think it necessary to make him more than two feet; but to the horse, the ox, and the buffalo she made four, because, being prone and inclined to the ground, with two feet they would without doubt have fallen:

B.F. ...another reason by philosophical means I cannot give you. But learn from me this doubt: why did Nature give man the hand?
Ach. Speak on, my most strong and most warlike Lord.
B.F. Nature gives to each animal the body and the members corresponding to its instinct and habit, and this Galen says: to the horse, so that it may be swift in the course, she gave strong hooves; to the lion, spirited and fierce, the teeth and the claws, so that with one bite or one scratch it can maim any large beast; to the bull the horns, to toss a man up high as if he were made of straw; and to the deer and the hare, being timid and cowardly, in place of weapons the swiftness in fleeing. But to man she gave the hand, an instrument truly necessary to all the arts, and no less suited to peace than to war, and to no other end save that by means of it man may, for his own defence, make use of every...

B.F. ...sort of weapon; and Aristotle well said that the hand is the organ of organs. And I truly owe great obligation to Nature if she has given me a hand which, without weapons, does whatever I wish: with it I break iron bars, I raise columns, I shatter stones, I cut paper with my fingers, I sever hemp ropes, and I kill wild and frightful beasts. What more? With one finger I pierce a round of tin from side to side, like an arquebus shot; with it I lift a rubbio [a measure] of grain, a barrel of wine, and I toss lettuces onto a basin. What more still? With it I stop the bull, put it on my shoulder, and then throw it half dead to the ground.
Ach. I do not believe that in all the universal world a warrior stronger than you can be found: if with your hair you lift a weight of eight hundred pounds, with your teeth you cut iron wire and small cords, and with it you shatter bones hard as travertine, you grind corals, you reduce mountain crystal to finest powder...

Ach. ...and with them you perform feats such that whoever does not see you do them will not, by report, quite wish to believe them, so impossible do they seem; and yet you do them every day in the houses of Princes, and you leave them all marvelling, stupefied, and astonished. But tell me, Sir Braccioforte, the reason why in the air one sometimes sees armed horses and people of various sorts, and one hears various other clamours.
B.F. Answering you briefly, I say that these things are generated from the almost miraculous impressions [phenomena] that compose themselves in the air, which, although in present times they are not seen, nevertheless in times past have been seen. Let one read Pliny in the second book of the Natural History, where he says that oftentimes in the war of the Cimbri were heard crashings of arms and sounds of trumpets in the Sky; and in the year 1513, were there not seen two ditch-diggers with two staves in the Sky giving each other blows like blind men? In the year 1539, did there not appear in the Sky horr-

B.F. ...rible armed horses, which for a good seven hours fought in full fury, and with kicks badly smashed each other's heads? And in the time of Lord Prospero Colonna, did he not himself see, as Sessa reports it, two soldiers make a quarrel and give each other tremendous knife-blows? The exhalations, then, and clouds accidentally show the form of an ass, of an ox, of an armed man, and of armies. And the clamour and the sound that is heard in the Sky is caused by the striking that the exhalations make together with the vapour and with the dense air. But learn from me how thunder is made, and first the definition.
Ach. Do speak on, for what you say remains stamped in my memory in capital letters.
B.F. Thunder is nothing other than a sound of mist broken and shattered, caused by a hot and dry exhalation that is enclosed within it, whatever Aristotle may say otherwise; concerning whose definition...

B.F. ...ion, note well that the formal cause is the sound, the material is the mist, and the efficient is the exhalation; and the end, according to Pythagoras, is the terror and fright that the souls of the wicked who dwell in hell receive from it. Now, to teach you how thunder is made, hear well. That exhalation which, by the heat of the sun and of the stars, rises up from the earth, once it has reached the second region of the air, divides itself: because the subtle part of it passes upward, leaving the clouds, and the gross and heavy part remains enclosed in the mist; and being surrounded by the coldness of that, it unites within itself by antiperistasis [reaction of opposites], as the philosophers say, and in this way, being united, it is made strong, and it breaks, shatters, and smashes the mist; and by breaking, shattering, and smashing it, it sounds, and such a sound is the thunder.
Ach. O learned Complete Cavalier, indeed you are: the more I converse with you, the more I remain stupefied and beside myself, and I go...

Ach. ...pondering within myself how and where you could ever have learned so much that you know every science. But tell me the manner in which winds are made, so that when I sail the sea it may be known to me.
B.F. The winds compose themselves in the air, and their material cause is the terrestrial exhalation, subtle, dry, and without any moisture or greasiness: I say without any greasiness, because if it were gross, enclosing itself in the hollows of the earth, it would rather make an earthquake than wind; and if it were oily, that is, apt to catch fire, it would rather make falling stars and other effects of fire; and if it were moist and watery, it would make lightning flashes. But, if you will grasp this doubt from me: why does the sea move with the ebb and flow?
Ach. The cause of this doubt is indeed beautiful and curious to know.
B.F. Hear first the opinions of the others, who have gone quite mad for not finding the true cause. Parmen-

...it was said that the Moon, by its influence, swelled and raised the sea for six hours, as much as it could rise and swell; and that then for another six hours it swelled it and let it fall again. And this effect was held not to occur through the power of the Moon's light, because when she found herself below the earth her light was blocked, so that she could not produce such an effect. Nor could it occur through the force of her movement either, because when she was below the earth she did not touch the sea above with her motion. So it was held that the Moon caused the flusso e reflusso [ebb and flow of the tide] by her influence. Certain other blockheads say that the Sun is the cause of it, which makes the sea boil; and if that were true, it would follow that when the Sun rises the sea would boil, which does not correspond to experience. Alpetragius attributes it to the firmament, holding that the movement of that heaven was the cause of the ebb and flow; and so this opinion too is foolish, because it would follow that it always ran in orderly fashion from the ea...

...east to west. Now to conclude, and not to censure Averroes, since he too in his paraphrase spoke great nonsense on this doubt, I say and resolve, with the truth of the matter, that it being true that mixed bodies have two powers, one from the Elements, the other from the Heaven, it should be no wonder if by virtue of the Elements a body moves downwards, being heavy, and by virtue of the Heaven it moves with the ebb and flow every six hours.

Ach. It gives me more satisfaction to have learned this doubt than if I had won a thousand gold scudi of the coinage at sbaraglini or scarca l'asino [dice/board games]. But tell me, for what cause were the celestial signs called by the names of animals?

B.F. I answer you that it was to distinguish the property of the season by some likeness, in this way. The Image that is in the Zodiac and is proper to the tropic of summer is called Cancer, because, just as the Crab walks forwards and...

...backwards, so the Sun, having arrived at that part, turns back exactly in the manner of the Crab. And the Image that comes next is called Leo, because the Sun at that time holds among the Stars that same power that the Lion holds among the Animals, and I among Men. And the one that follows after is called Virgo, because, just as the Virgin gives birth to nothing, so the earth, when the Sun is found in that sign, scorched by the excessive heat, produces no fruit at all. The next is called Libra, because, just as levelling makes both scales of the balance equal, so the Sun, arriving at that sign, makes the day equal to the night. Nor were the following signs called Sagittarius, Aquarius and Pisces for any other reason than that at that season, when the Sun lodges with them, it often rains, lightens and thunders. And to conclude with this other doubt, hear for what cause it sometimes rains pieces of flesh, of bricks...

...milk, blood, frogs, and other things.

Ach. Is this possible?

B.F. Is it possible? Why not? Does one not read that in the time when L. Volumnius and Servius Sulpitius were Consuls, pieces of flesh fell with the rain, which neither rotted nor were the less pecked at by the songbirds? And in the time of the Consulate of L. Paulus and C. Marcellus, did not wool and sponges descend with the rain? And the year before Marcus Crassus was killed by the Parthians, did not baked bricks and iron fall? And at other times, as Pliny says, has one not seen it rain milk and blood? And at other times fish, frogs and worms? And other animals? Not to mention waters sweet, fetid and bitter, and of other tastes? And this happens, regarding the raining of animals, because in the matter of the water there are hot and cold parts, and when the heat that is in the mist divides and separates itself from it, it draws with itself the subtle moisture that is found in that same mist, which...

...then mixing with some earthy exhalation, becomes somewhat viscous and tenacious; and being thus viscous, it congeals and condenses from the coldness of the air; whence, thus condensed, it becomes like a little skin, within which the same heat, wrapping itself up, causes the spirit to be shut up in it, to which, being added, various mixings and the aspects of the stars are generated. And when these things rain, I forecast that wars, quarrels, discords among kinsmen, deaths of Princes, murders, famines, rebellions and incurable diseases, with bloody fluxes, arise.

Ach. Oh what lovely and curious doubts, concerning hidden and much-desired matters in philosophy, I have learned to resolve from you. Now it remains that you teach me the Scrima [fencing].

B.F. Gently with the Scherma [fencing]; it is necessary first that you know many other doubts necessary to everyone who adorns his flank with piercing and cutting steel...

...that is: and first, whether lost honour can be recovered.

Ach. Oh fine question; it seems to me a thousand years until you begin it.

B.F. Upon this doubt there are read in the world various and discordant opinions, which I do not state so as not to be too long. I will say indeed, by way of conclusion, that the Cavalier who lives for honour also dies for honour, and once dead cannot another time be resurrected to honour. And those ignorant men who say that a Prince can restore to the life of honour one dead to honour speak wrongly. Therefore let the Cavalier take care not to say, in scorn of others, uncivil and discourteous words, which bring dishonour and infamy; let him show on every occasion that presents itself, with unconquered spirit, his valour; let him not violate his faith, nor fail his word, let him honour justice, for in this manner he will live by the law of honour, and not by the penalty of eternal infamy.

Ach. Oh truly well, Signor Braccioforte, and awesome.

B.F. The second doubt shall be: whether two Cavaliers who challenge each other in the midst of the armies, going to fight outside of them, are deserving of punishment. It is to be concluded that they merit punishment; the reason is this, that they fail in their honour, being obliged to the service of the army, which, while it lasts, they cannot, without the licence of their superiors, fight; and by fighting they offend the republic or their Lord. And so the Jurists have made laws against such combatants that punish them gravely.

Ach. These laws are very well made, since they avoid, by the rigour of the penalty, many troubles.

B.F. The third doubt shall be: if two enemy Cavaliers who make peace, coming to a new enmity, are to be understood to have broken the peace. It is said no, according to Bartolus; and if they maim each other, it is attributed to the new quarrel, and not to the first...

...for which they made peace, and swore never more to recall the past enmities. So that those who are contrary to my opinion are asses in the form of men, if they have not as much judgement as an ant. They would do better to keep their head in the bread-bin than set themselves to speak of things they do not know.

Ach. I too am of your Bartolist opinion; and if they promised not to harm each other, and were obliged to this, it is understood for the enmities made before the peace, not to trouble each other any more, and not for future ones.

B.F. The fourth doubt shall be: if a Philosopher or Jurist, being challenged to battle by a Cavalier, is left dishonoured by not going. Many of little wisdom, and clothed in the habit of ignorance, believe that when someone, though he be not a professor of arms, is challenged by a professor, by not answering him he is left stained with perpetual infamy. But I...

...who know all that a noble and learned Cavalier can know, say that the Philosopher and Jurist, by not going, do not thereby lose in honour. Aristotle also decides this doubt, with this proverb: smiths deal with things fabricated; and that each one plies his own trade. And just as the Cavalier, challenged to fight with books in hand, is not obliged to answer the Doctor, for never having studied, so also the Doctor is not under obligation to answer the Cavalier, for never having exercised himself in arms.

Ach. So I hold too.

B.F. The fifth doubt shall be: whether the ancients used single combats. In Homer one reads of many single battles: of Menelaus with Paris, of Aeneas with Diomedes, of Hector with Ajax and with Achilles. Virgil, Prince of the Latin Poets, sets down the noble battle of Turnus. One reads in Diodorus Siculus of the combat of Pyrrhus with Pantauchus, of Alexander...

...of Macedon with Spithrobates the Persian, Prefect of Ionia, and with Porus King of the Indians. In the Roman Histories one sees also how Marcellus, Torquatus, Corvinus, Scipio the elder African, and many others fought duels, no more from desire of vengeance than of praise and glory. And Darius the Persian, for having in single contest cut the enemy into quarters fit for salting, was he not elected, as reward for his victory, King of the Persians? And in our times, have we not had a Scanderbeg who, in the presence of Amurath the Grand Turk, naked [unarmoured], with his heavy scimitar, performed against many armed men most terrible feats of arm, cutting the armour on the backs of his enemies as if it were made of thin lasagne [pasta sheets]? Whence, having taken renown, he made himself lord of Albania, of Macedonia, and of other parts; he made war on the Turk, and pounded him like an anointed thing [i.e. to a pulp] with his strong steel; and he would have destroyed him entirely, as in good part he did, if the years, for his living...

Ach. Scanderbeg is indeed said to have been a great man, and in his praise I have read a poem, recently composed, which, since it was made by a woman, does not displease me. But carry on.

B.F. The sixth question will be this. If between two combatants one were to strike out his enemy's eye, and that enemy were to cut off his nose, which would be the better and more honourable blow? The claim is that the knight who has deprived his enemy of an eye is the winner, and they give as their reason that to be deprived of sight is a great misery, since a man deprived of it is useless for all things. What is more, since the eye is set in the head to govern all the other human members, once it is lost the man loses the noblest member he has. But the nose, cut off by the knight, being the member that channels mucus and other refuse of the brain, is less honourable. They then add that

the more excellent the member, the more honourable and the greater the injury; and that, for these reasons, the knight of the severed nose defeats the other with the struck-out eye. But I say that it is a greater loss to lose the nose than an eye, and I prove it. The nose is a unique member, and necessary to the human body; it is the ornament of the face, which, deprived of it, becomes a monster fit to frighten crows and ghosts. And what greater shame can a criminal receive than to lose his nose? And just as a ship without a rudder is imperfect, so a man deprived of his nose is worth less than a zero. Read Frederick in his constitution, where he says that the penalty of the deprivation of the nose is an atrocious and severe punishment, being a mockery among the people. And so Maino the constable, who had his nose eaten away by the French disease [syphilis], was jeered, scorned, and slighted wherever he went. So the poor wretch, in order to be no longer the plaything of rogues and fine

spirits, made a petition to Death, begging her, since he could no longer live in this world for having almost no nose left, to mow down in the field of his life the hay of his years, so ill-received by the world. But he who loses an eye is not left without light, because the other remains to him, which inherits the visual power of the lost eye, of its companion. So he comes to see with one what he formerly saw with two eyes. And this I say from proof, since, having by misfortune, from a child then my equal in age, had my left eye injured with a little reed, with the right I see as much as I saw before with two. Nor does it take away my boldness or my strength, nor does it make me appear ugly; rather it seems to give me grace in my face, and to bring terror to my enemies. Do we not read of Hannibal of Carthage, who, losing an eye through the violence of the cold in the Alps of Bologna, performed with a single one heroic deeds against the Romans?

such a way that he has remained most famous for many victories. What is more? The law does not forbid one who has only one eye from administering offices, because it holds him for a perfect man, and often gives him every honourable charge. But to a man with a severed nose? To one deprived of it neither the law nor men lend aid. And so one must conclude that to lose the nose is of greater infamy, dishonour, and disgrace.

Ach. Thus I too conclude, with the example of Heaven, which lacks neither virtue, nor beauty, nor strength, although it has no more than one eye, which is the Sun. And how many times has it been seen that you alone were surrounded by an immense multitude of swords and halberds, both by day and by night, and with one eye you defended yourself and struck out, as if you were an Argus?

B.F. The seventh question will be this. If four knights challenged to battle, one fleeing, the two may go to strike a single one. Upon this question there would be

much to say, so many various and capricious and extravagant opinions there are. But I shall give mine, founded on reason. Now I say yes; and this, because the fugitive renders himself as vanquished, whence the flight gives the advantage, and concedes that two may strike a single one. And if the fugitive were left dead, ought not his companion to finish the battle against the two? Yes indeed. Let one read Livy, who reports that of the three Romans who fought against the Albans, two being left dead, the single Roman remained victorious at the last. This I do say, though, that if natural death befall a man in that very instant when he wishes to show how much strength he has in his arm and heart in his breast, the single knight is not bound to fight against two, because the case comes from Heaven, and therefore is worthy of pity and excuse.

Ach. Your opinion pleases me, true and royal. Whence it is no wonder if the other evening, when you came with other friends of yours to a knife-fight, against a greater number of enemy

folk than were on your side, your companions having taken to flight, you alone remained to fight it out against them all. Nor did you ever quit the fray until you saw half of them fall sprawling at your feet, and the others take to their heels helter-skelter like pigs. Now what will be the next question?

B.F. The eighth will be this. Whether a knight who challenges on horseback to fight an equal of his ought to remain the victor if he dismounts and kills the enemy. Many of Tinca's soldiers say that he cannot do so, because the agreement is to fight on horseback, and this must be observed if one wishes to win; and if he does otherwise, he breaks the covenants, betrays the enemy, and fights not as a knight but as a foot-soldier. But I, being contrary to these men, say that the knight who has begun the battle on horseback may dismount from it, and with his weapon skewer him like a starling, for he does not violate the pacts, if at the outset he stands

on horseback. Indeed, by law it is determined that it is lawful for him, with honesty or dishonesty, to defend his life and to seek every cunning device to remain the victor. And even though one fight on foot and the other on horseback, I say, and shall always maintain, with this sword and with this life, that the battle may be called lawful, of a knight and not of a foot-soldier, for cunning ingenuity, in such cases, is never excluded.

Ach. I am of your opinion; and for one reason that presents itself to me, I say that the knight who dismounts and kills, at his own great disadvantage, deserves not punishment but trophies of eternal praise and of victory.

B.F. The ninth question will be this. Whether he who has right in battle wins. In the Lombard law it is found that the supreme good is commonly the helper of justice and the lover of truth, and that therefore in battle it makes the innocent one remain victorious. But because experience is not

always seen, since very often one sees him who has right lose, and him who is in the wrong win, therefore from a decretal is drawn an ancient proverb, that in personal battles: an old sin causes a new penance. It is therefore well to counsel that battles be undertaken with right, because whoever undertakes them wrongfully, Heaven makes him lose his strength, his audacity, and his life; for the burdened conscience must not stay like oil upon the water of innocence, but like lead, or iron, or stone, at the bottom.

Ach. There is no doubt that the celestial Sun does not lend aid to him who has justice, and does not make him obtain the victory.

B.F. The last question will be this. To teach you who is the Plaintiff, who the Defendant, who the Champion, who the Second, who the Judge, and what a Quarrel is.

Ach. These things, yes, are necessary to be known. Now begin.

B.F. Plaintiff, in military matters, signifies the same as provoker, challenger,

requisitioner, and maintainer; who, if he is defeated, may no longer appear among knights, whence his name, on the roll of the knights of honour, is struck out, and, as though it were aqua vitae, goes up in smoke. And it is the common judgement that he is, in matters of honour, the Plaintiff [Attore] who slanders the other. The Defendant [Reo], then, is the one who is provoked, challenged, and defied, the sustainer and defender; and the laws favour the Defendant and hate the Plaintiff. The office of the Defendant is to have the charge of sustaining and defending the truth; and by the constitution of the Emperor Frederick, to him falls the choice of the weapons, of the Judge, of the place, and of the time; and the conditions of the Defendant are, in every case, better than those of the Plaintiff, since he is drawn by force into a military trial. The Champion [Campione] is the one who, by a person fit for the duel but lawfully prevented from being able to provoke, is substituted in his place, and is called also substitute and vicar. Whoever proposes the Champion

must give one not stained with infamy, nor in any way inferior in rank or dignity to the adversary. The Second [Padrino] is the one who anciently was called Advocate: whence in Homer one reads, in the combat of Menelaus and of Paris, that Ulysses was Second to Menelaus, and Hector to Paris. The office of the Second is to state and uphold the arguments of his principals, without deference, before the Lord of the Field, to make objections, to protest, to remove difficulties, to clear up the doubts that arise, and all the other things that are fitting for the profit of the cause and of his principal; and finally to see that the fight is with equal weapons, made without deceit and malice. The military Judge is the one who is chosen by the combatants, has the power to judge over them, and the judgement he gives can never be refused; so that by that sentence one must perforce abide. Therefore it is necessary that the Judge be of the utmost integrity and of supreme excellence,

Ach. ...so that he does not let himself be carried away by his passions; and it was instituted so that with prudence, with soundness of mind, and with clear judgement of the intellect he may judge swiftly and not leave a knight's honour in suspense. Duellum [duel] anciently signified among the Latins the same as bellum, which by its own nature means nothing other than war between two powers. Usage has since established that it means the same as what the Greeks called Monomachia, that is, single combat, single battle. And "abbattimento" [engagement/clash] properly means a battle between two persons, though improperly the name is also given to one fought by several. As for the inventor of the duel, some say it was the Mantineans; Christians attribute the invention to the Prince of the Tartarean realms [i.e. the Devil], because it is against one's neighbour. And the laws of the duel are said to have come originally from the Lombards, which restrict and forbid coming to combat, as was formerly done, for every trivial cau[se; but]...

...cau[se]; but rather for cases most weighty in honour, for example, for a gentleman being accused as a traitor, as a forger, as the son of an uncertain father, and as "father of the goats" [i.e. cuckold], and for other like infamies. This duel is not permitted by Divine law, because it is directly against charity; nor by the law of Nature, since it destroys the species; nor by the laws of the cities, lest they be left deprived and poor of their inhabitants. And whoever should fight a duel today, besides incurring excommunication, would also fall under the penalty of the Civil laws, which punish those who commit homicide. And this duel was invented, some say, so that in it a man might show his valour and the truth be uncovered, and so that it might clear an opposing calumny and take vengeance and settle every difference. But I say that the duel was introduced by knights to put down and punish vice, to raise up virtue and give it its due rewards, which are the maintenance and pres[ervation]...

...pres[ervation] of honour. It remains for me finally to teach you now to handle arms, for the sake of learning which from me you have departed from your homeland and come to my house in the greatest heat of the year, where I, with all the ease and brevity I can, will render you, with the aid of the Eternal Father and of our Advocate Saint George, a perfect fencer this very morning; for I shall teach you to deliver and to parry all the most important blows. Now lay hand to your sword, for I too, see, draw mine. Why do you delay? Set your hand to it, I say, and buckle on the cloak [ferraiolo, cloak used for defence] with quickness.
Ach. Do you mean to teach me to fence with an edged sword [spada di filo, sharp sword], Signor Braccioforte, and not with the blunt one [spada di marra, foil/blunt sword], with which one learns in all the schools of the world?
B.F. With this one, which has point and edge, do I teach; and the reason is that the scholar accustoms his sight to the wounding enemy sword, and takes over it such courage that it seems he esteems it not a fi[g]...

...a fi[g], but rather despises it as if it were a reed. And if the Masters of Italy taught in my new fashion, their scholars, when they come to a quarrel, would not lose their nerve as they do, would not be beaten like asses, nor flee like rabbits; and let this be said without offence to the spirited and courageous scholars, for the cutting sword works in them the same as a frightful serpent works in a child, which, presenting itself before him, makes him run away weeping, or fall swooning for fear. But if it happens that the child sees the fierce serpent painted, he does not fear it, nor esteem it, because he knows it is colour, that it is paper, and that it neither bites nor poisons. Just so, precisely, with these men: the blunt sword [spada di marra] is the serpent on paper, which they drag under their feet; and the iron sword, then, drawn out sharp, is the living serpent, which takes from them their strength, their daring, and the heart to ply their hands and to win themselves honour.
Ach. A most beautiful comparison indeed. Now behold, I lay hand.

B.F. The draw is not good: put back the sword, for it comes to stand in first defensive guard [prima guardia difensiva, first defensive guard], imperfect; for I wish to teach you how you ought to draw it with all the proper procedures.
Ach. Here it is in the scabbard, and moreover hung at my side. But before you teach me that, tell me, generous Signor Braccio, why the sword that one keeps at the side you say comes to stand in first imperfect defensive guard?
B.F. I answer you. It comes into guard because it is in position; it is called defensive because it stands ready to defend; and it is called imperfect because, being within the scabbard, it terrifies without performing any perfect action. Now let this right foot of yours come forward of the left two palms' [breadth].
Ach. Have I placed it well?
B.F. Very well: now set your hand, and let the drawing [cavata, draw] and the delivery of a riverso [riverso, backhand cut] toward my face be done by you in one continuous motion.

Ach. Guard your nose, for I draw and deliver.
B.F. Draw and deliver away without any fear of hurting me, for you will find me in every blow that I show you always at the defence, whether with the cloak or with the sword.
Ach. Before I draw it and deliver, I should like you to teach me to buckle on the cloak with that ease you have done.
B.F. So that you may learn it, let the cloak now fall down from your shoulder, and taking it from one side once or twice, wind it about your arm.
Ach. Now I try it: have I done well?
B.F. Yes indeed: and here is another way, easier, of buckling on the cloak; take the cloak by the collar, and once around the arm wheel it about.
Ach. See whether I buckle it well.
B.F. Excellently: now unsheathe it, and deliver a vigorous riverscio [riverscio, backhand cut] toward my face.
Ach. So I shall do: now go to the parry, for behold, I obey you. Have I delivered the blow well?

B.F. If you did not lunge out so far with your legs, the riverscio [riverscio, backhand cut] came well; but take heed for another time that playing with sword and cloak requires the foot near to the other, so that one does not fall through lunging too far, or getting tangled in the cloak [ferraiolo], which by its weight makes a man sometimes fall face forward, for having spread himself too wide.
Ach. What usefulness does the buckling-on of the cloak bring, Signor Braccioforte?
B.F. It defends life, if it is of good cloth that resists the cut, as are mine, which I wear, which are of finest draped serge, of plush, and of cloth of Spain; and of these three cloths every man who carries a sword ought to have his cloaks made, since they are light and handy for their fineness, and not of coarse Roman cloth fit to dress stone-throwers, or of dark "monachino" fit to dress grooms, or of "Castello" cloth fit to dress gluttonous parish priests. What else does the buckling-on do? It beats back the enemy sword, as one does with the gauntlet or with the dag[ger]...

...with the dag[ger]; and whoever knows how to hurl the cloak suddenly at the enemy covers his head and leaves him blinded, and can cut him to pieces like a log, or riddle him like a chestnut-roaster's pan, or leave him like a Trophy of the Capitol without legs, without arms, and without head; for the blinded man comes to remain like an upright sack of coal.
Ach. How does one cast this cloak upon the enemy's head?
B.F. One takes both parts of the cloak more toward the hood, and with all possible quickness, drawing it over one's own head, one throws it onto the enemy's head; in whose cloak, being wrapped up, with a kick in the stomach he can be beaten to the ground, his weapons taken from him, and with vigorous stoccate [stoccate, thrusts] and imbroccate [imbroccate, descending thrusts] he can be pierced all over like a sieve, and thence one can carry off a triumphant victory. One can also hurl the cloak with the edge of the sword, in feigning [ink blot] to want to deliver a riverscio [riverscio, backhand cut] at the enemy, and wrap it upon him; and these tricks of the cloak, whoever...

...whoever knows how to do them well, they bring usefulness and honour. Many other ways of entangling the enemy with the cloak I would teach you, but time does not permit me. Now return your sword into your scabbard, and, delivering a riverso [riverso, backhand cut] toward my face as you did before, remain with the sword high, near to your right ear, and, making the point look toward me, we shall stretch it toward the belly, as if with it you wished to run me through from one side to the other.
Ach. When I have delivered the riverscio [riverscio, backhand cut] at you, and the pommel of the sword comes beside my ear, in what guard shall I then be?
B.F. In the second high guard [seconda guardia alta, second high guard], offensive, perfect, you will be, the sword being on the right side, which uncovers the enemy more than any other guard whatsoever; and therefore it is called perfect, because it can make a perfect blow in offending. But if the sword were, with the right foot forward, on the left side, it would be called guar[d]...

...guar[d] defensive, because it stands for the defence of the man, as stands the Bastion of Santo Spirito for the defence of the Castel Sant'Angelo.
Ach. Tell me, spirited Signor Braccio, if in that moment when I lay hand and deliver a riverscio [riverscio, backhand cut], the enemy should thrust at me with the point, what ought I to do?
B.F. You will beat back his blow toward the air with a riverscio, then, having placed yourself in the aforesaid high guard, perfect, offensive, hurl at him an imbroccata [imbroccata, descending thrust] toward the navel, so that it disembowels him.
Ach. Would it not be better that I delivered a mandritto [mandritto, forehand cut] at him, to split his head in the middle, as if it were a little cooked kid's head?
B.F. No, my son, because the point goes more swift and mortal toward the vital parts, and therefore is held by every judicious man to be more perfect and offensive than the cut; yet if from a riverscio you wished to form a mandritto, one can, and it is used; and this mandritto ought to plunge down upon the enemy's head.

Ach. If from a rising riverso [backhand cut] I then formed a descending mandritto [forehand cut], in which guardia [guard] would I be?

B.F. You would be in the third offensive imperfect guard. I call it imperfect because such a blow strikes imperfectly, if indeed it ever kills, since the head is protected by the cranium, a very strong and double bone, which is the half of the head that houses the brain.

Ach. Once I have delivered the mandritto, which will descend for me near the ground and towards the left side of the foot, in which guard will I be?

B.F. In the fourth guard, wide, defensive, imperfect, formed from the sopramano [overhand], from which a round riverso is generated. It is called a wide guard because the sword has moved away and widened from the enemy in such a way that it no longer points towards his body.

Ach. If I now found myself in this guard, what blow ought I to throw at the enemy?

B.F. A blow that had its beginning as a ri-

-verso, and ended in a stoccata [thrust], and reached the left part of the chest, where wounds are incurable and mortal; and you would come to strike with the fifth guard, close, defensive, perfect. I call it close because it stands near the enemy and guards for him the dwelling of the heart. And this guard is difficult to be struck, on account of the point, which stands fearsome before the chest of the enemy's heart to break it open and shatter the lock of his life. Among the defensive guards this is perhaps one of the best; and this guard, once it has hurled its point, can make it drop to the ground and re-enter into a new guard.

Ach. What then will that guard be called?

B.F. The sixth guard, wide, offensive, imperfect, which, once thrown, returns into the seventh guard, close, offensive, perfect. Nor is there need for me to tell you why it is called a close guard, why offensive, and why perfect, because I have already told you.

Ach. Do not be displeased to tell me again,

why one says close guard, offensive, perfect; and this so that it may better remain in my memory.

B.F. Gladly. Indeed, I will recapitulate for you what I have taught you in all these seven guards. Now attend. A guard is called offensive because it guards you while striking; a guard is called defensive because in guarding it defends you; it is called wide because it widens away from the enemy in order to give him a mortal closing; now a guard is imperfect, now perfect; it is called perfect if it strikes with a straight point, it is called imperfect if it strikes with the edge; the guard is now high, now low; it is called high because, like a tower at sea, it discovers the enemy; low because it lowers, terrifies and frightens the spirit of the enemy.

Ach. What does rising and descending riverso [backhand cut] mean?

B.F. A rising riverso is that which springs up from the ground towards the face, or towards any other limb of the enemy; descending then, when from

high it drops down low towards the enemy's leg, to return him to the ground without legs.

Ach. Are there many other guards, Sir Braccioforte?

B.F. There are too many, if with every movement of the foot a guard is generated; but with these that I have taught you, you must serve yourself in feats of arms. Now I am about to have you exercise in these seven guards; but I judge it would be better to teach you many very beautiful blows by word of mouth, and then to have you put them into practice.

Ach. If you do so, it will be easier for me to learn them.

B.F. That is just how I dispose myself to do. But first I will return my sword into the scabbard.

Ach. This of yours does not seem a sword to me, but a most fearsome greatsword, even if you wield it with one hand.

B.F. It is a sword, and indeed one of those ancient perfect ones, for it cuts marble and iron with more ease than the knife cuts the pith

of elder-wood, and it remains not at all notched. And it is suspected that this sword may in ancient times have served some Giant, or strong Paladin celebrated in Ariosto, for the reward it carries, which is the World.

Ach. I have not seen in my days a finer iron, shining and cutting, than this of yours; but how much does it weigh?

B.F. Around eleven pounds.

Ach. I do not know how a shoulder does not pull you to the ground when you use it, if it weighs so much.

B.F. On the contrary, on account of the boundless strength I have in this arm of mine, it seems to me a feather; and if it were ten pounds heavier, I would wield it in time of need with more satisfaction, because I would feel it in my hand, which abhors light things, having accustomed myself to lift half-columns and to place them, with incredible nimbleness, upon my shoulders, and to have myself carry them for miles, without the weight wearying me; not to mention lifting the thickest iron bars from the ground

with two fingers, and those, with all the strength of my body, I have hurled six good paces, and won over him who, wagering, did not believe it.

Ach. Happy you, who have the strength of Atlas; but which are these blows that you want to teach me?

B.F. They are many, and almost all most cruel and most deadly, because whoever knows how to do them well, I say quickly and in time, they are irreparable; therefore see that they be stamped in your intellect, so that you may serve yourself with them, and do me honour by them. Now attend.

Ach. Speak on, for this morning not a syllable, let alone a word, escapes from your mouth, nor a sigh, that, like fine gold, I do not seize it and lock it away in the purse of memory.

B.F. If you found yourself in the lists with your enemy, and he, standing in the fifth close guard, held the point near your chest, I would want you to place yourself against him in the same guard, and, beating aside his sword with yours, at one stroke the left foot

you place before the right, and throw at him a stoccata [thrust] that, like a lightning-bolt, goes swift; which, thrown as it ought to be, is of a nature so vigorous that an armour, not to mention a mail-shirt or a wall, it would pass through like a spider's web or scrap paper. And if the enemy, by mischance rather than by knowledge or practice, parried your stoccata, you, returning into the same guard, could hurl a mandritto [forehand cut] at him towards the windpipe of the throat; in which, striking home, you would come to cut his neck as if it were a gosling or a goose. And in case your sword were beaten aside, be quick to throw at him a riverso [backhand cut] to the head, which, coming into the second high guard, would end with an imbroccata [descending thrust].

Ach. Oh, fine blows are these: in the first assault I find myself in, I want to put them into action, and do them excellently.

B.F. Here are others still better. If your enemy found himself in the fourth guard, wide, defensive, imperfect, and waited

that you were the first to throw at him, so that he might then go to the parry and wound you with an imbroccata [descending thrust], or with a safe riverso [backhand cut] to the face, I want you, standing in the seventh guard, close, offensive, perfect, to feign throwing a stoccata [thrust] at him, which on the way converts itself into a mandritto [forehand cut], and descends onto his sword-arm, and with a grave ugly wound makes it fall to the ground for him; and this blow is as beautiful as it is easy, and it succeeds, since the enemy runs to parry the stoccata, and finding himself tricked, becomes crippled, and loses his weapon together with his honour; whence, all pale, shamefaced and trembling, he must beg for his life as a gift, which out of pity is given to him.

Ach. It is one's duty to show charity in such cases, and to show the enemy that if in the arm there is ferocity, in the heart there is also compassion; and to warn him that for the future he should learn to set himself against persons who know how to wound with point, with edge, with

mandritto [forehand cut], or with riverso [backhand cut] surely, as you teach me. Now which are the other blows?

B.F. They are these. If you found yourself fighting on foot, with sword and cape, against a Cavalier on horseback who also uses a sword, and he drove his horse upon you to make it fall on top of you and crush you, if not indeed to give you a point in the middle of the pit of the stomach and render you a wretched corpse to Mother Earth, I want, in this predicament, that you stay vigilant in the sixth wide guard, which keeps for you the sword's point inclined towards the ground; and that when the Cavalier comes your way to trample you, raising the point of your iron, you pierce with it the horse's neck, which point would come to arrive and die in the fork of the chest of the enemy Cavalier, who, unexpectedly, with this noble deceit, sees his soul depart through the mouth of the wound. I call it deceit, because

he sees himself like a starling skewered on a spit, without even seeing white and piercing iron, and dies in company with his beast.

Ach. Oh, a fine blow worthy of you is this: but why must I first parry rather than strike?

B.F. Because experience, which is the mistress of all things, teaches that in such an assault it is better to be the patient than the agent.

Ach. What does agent and patient mean?

B.F. In the art of fencing, the agent is he who directs the first blow at the enemy; the patient is then he who, at the first cut of the agent, runs underneath to parry it, and to be the second to attack, if he can; and in every assault, except in this one, it is better to be the agent than the patient, because in quarrels praise is always given to the first who begins to strike; besides that striking first gives terror and fright to the enemy, and one compels him, to his rotten spite, always to defend himself, having no time to strike,

...standing on the defensive; whereupon, dismayed by the swift sopramani [overhand cuts], riversci [backhand cuts] and stoccate [thrusts] that are hurled at him with full force of the arm, whose edges could cut through fastenings, let alone arms, and could rip open corselets, let alone human breasts, he lets himself be beaten like a tapestry cloth.

Ach.: I am glad to have learned this, and the reason makes sense to me, because the attacker, by being the first to strike, now with the point and now with the edge, demoralises the enemy. Now what are the others, my valiant lord, more of a man than any who lives under the Orient?

B.F.: They are these. If an enemy assaulted you with sword and dagger, you, setting yourself with the left foot forward, will beat aside if he thrusts at you; then, closing in upon him with the passata [passing step], throw the ferraiolo [cloak] over the arm of his dagger from above, which will prevent him from being able to move, and at the same time make him the target of your sharp wounds, which will spring from riversci, from mandritti [forehand cuts] and from imbroccate [descending thrusts]. But learn...

...learn in what way you may defend yourself, and strike an enemy who should assault you with a labarda [halberd].

Ach.: Go on, for I assure you that I am taking in everything you teach me, to set it down on paper, and perhaps one day give it to the press.

B.F.: If an enemy assaulted you with a labarda [halberd], you will quickly place yourself in the settima guardia stretta [seventh close guard], which makes a man stand with the right foot forward, and waiting for him to thrust at you, to rip you open like a football: in the moment he delivers the blow against your belly, quickly draw the right foot back, and leaning with the body to the left hand, let the blow pass by; and laying your left hand on the shaft of it from above, you will pin it fast with your strength in such a way that he cannot move it, let alone wield it. Then, thrusting a riverso [backhand cut] toward his right arm, and a sopramano [overhand cut] toward the region of the memory [the head], you will, through the two wounds received, make it fall to the ground, and of...

...it you will possess yourself, to his shame and scorn.

Ach.: With the alabarda [halberd] I would be glad if you taught me to play.

B.F.: Not only in the alabarda [halberd] do I wish to instruct you, but in sword and cape, in sword and dagger, in sword and gauntlet, in sword and buckler, and in sword and lantern, a play newly discovered by me and taught to many Roman cavaliers; and not only in these weapons, but also in the spadone [great sword], in the roncone [bill-hook], in the picca [pike], in the spiedo [boar-spear], in the bastone [staff], in the lancia [lance], and in the pistolese [large dagger]; and finally in the manner in which you may defend yourself, unarmed, from an armed enemy, and wound him.

Ach.: How is it possible that I, unarmed, could defend myself and moreover wound?

B.F.: And why not? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ach.: You laugh? Surely it must seem to you that I have said some great absurdity to laugh at; yet I speak no nonsense, if I speak the truth. If this, which seems to me so...

...impossible, I must believe, teach me a little how, without arms, I may defend myself from a dagger, and moreover wound.

B.F.: Lend me your attentive ears, and I begin.

Ach.: Begin, for if you show me this thing this morning, I mean, wherever I go, to set you above the stars, and to say that a cavalier such as you has never been in the world, nor is, nor perhaps ever will be; and that a man commits a gross error if he does not promptly immortalise you by raising obelisks to the glory of your valour, building theatres, erecting colossi, forming pyramids, and composing statues great and large of solid gold or bronze.

B.F.: I care nothing for these glories: it is enough for me only to have the favour of Princes, which will give me the greater spirit to study, for the benefit of the martial world, finer and subtler matters of arms.

Ach.: Not only will you have their favour, but also their money.

B.F.: Nor for their coin do I care, having...

...as much to spend as any private gentleman such as I may have.

Ach.: This is very well known, since here in Rome you keep a great house open and well furnished, with horses in the stable, and menservants and maidservants, and you go always dressed in rich and varied silken cloths, and wear, as ornament of your neck, magnificent gold chains, and on your sinewy fingers enamelled rings set with finest and largest pointed diamonds, accompanied by other various inestimable jewels; with great, massy gold buttons on your perfumed and embroidered collars, not to mention proud jewels wrought to full perfection upon your fine hair, and gold medallions stamped with devices, and plates of silver, and gold sequins in your purse; and that you continually keep a table, a board I mean, rich with every grace of God, at which there ever remain, for your company, friends most excellent whether in letters or in arms, with whom, after the meal, you discourse either of...

...either of sciences or of arms. Now show me what you have told me.

B.F.: Willingly: now learn. If an enemy of yours assaulted you, you being unarmed, with a dagger, to drive it into your heart up to the hilt, dart yourself like a serpent at the arm of the enemy dagger, and gripping it with your left hand, clamp it at the wrist like pincers; then set your right arm at his elbow, and with the left hand and with the right, twisting one backward and the other outward, you will maim an arm, take his dagger from him, and bury it for him in his ill-born breast.

Ach.: O fine hold, that I have learned this morning! For a thousand and a thousand times may Nature be blessed, who made you come into the world, because you taught me such rich and virtuous treasures.

B.F.: Other holds I wish to teach you still, if you have patience.

Ach.: How not? I would go without eating...

...to learn them all: now speak.

B.F.: If an enemy of yours, to scar you, or to cut off your nose and ears, came toward you with a cortellaccio [large knife] such as a pork-butcher's, you will seize with your right hand the arm of the cortellaccio, and setting it onto your shoulder with the left hand, you will then seize his right leg, and thus you will carry him off to hurl him into some ditch, or drain, or river, where his cutthroat life may end in a few hours.

Ach.: And if, through my scanty strength, I could not carry him off to fling him down, what should I do when I have him on my shoulder?

B.F.: Cast him to the ground, and with kicks knock the breath out of him; nay, moreover, take from him the knife, and dip it into the thickest vein of his warm and red blood.

Ach.: This hold is no less fine than the others you have shown me.

B.F.: This next one will please you greatly. If an enemy put a hand upon your breast, and wished with a storta [curved sword] or accetta [hatchet] to split your head and take from it the brain...

...brain, to give it to eat to the raging dogs for vengeance: since you are without arms, it is necessary that you put your right arm under his throat, and with it hold his arm; then with the left hand you will grip his left hand, and then, giving with your right leg upon his left a vigorous blow, or a good shove, you will make him fall to the ground like a sack of grain; and with his own weapon you will take from him his infamous spirit, unworthy to live any longer among the honoured soldierly ranks.

Ach.: O fine lessons for the preservation of my life you now demonstrate to me.

B.F.: I will tell you of others, and perhaps of the finer ones. An enemy assaulting you with a pistolese [large dagger], you with your left hand seize his right hand of the pistolese, and with the right hand taking him by the left leg, then thrust his head under his right arm; then with your left hand twist toward your face...

...face the arm of the pistolese [large dagger], and with the right arm raising the seized leg all at one time, you will make him fall to the ground like a sack of straw; and taking from him the pistolese, with its point you can mark him all over like a legal document, or make holes in him fit for larding.

Ach.: A most fine method this truly is for taking away a pistolese.

B.F.: To finish it off, hear one more, and let it suffice. A cunning traitor fit for the halter, assaulting you with a dagger, meaning to make more holes in your body than a colander has, and with your blood to make wet the parched earth: I wish that you spiritedly seize with the left his dagger arm, and with the right the other arm, and thus, fastened onto him, tighten upon him an uncino [inside hook] from within, or a spunta piede [foot-trip] from without, and give him one of those hard shin-throws that the Witch, Corporal Pietro, Zaccaglione, or Fileno are wont to make given to whoever does not yield to them; then, taking from him the dagger, you would jab it into his...

...body, and you would leave him pierced with more holes than a bed-warmer; for such a scoundrel, a rogue, a great sluggard, and a back fit for the cudgel, deserves no compassion.

Ach.: O how much I do indeed owe you, surely infinitely; since you have taught me to defend myself unarmed against a dagger in many varied and extravagant ways, which, once I have well put them all into practice, will bring me, in any assassination attempt made upon me, honour, praise, and victory together.

B.F.: Say no more, if I am to leave you astonished, and not merely obliged, if in three mornings I mean to teach you the whole art of fence, and to make you set it afterward, with exercise, into a secure habit; recognising in you a rare judgement, which quickly apprehends without effort, I see that in this art of fencing you are much inclined; and therefore I prognosticate to you that in a short while you will know all that I know, and will make yourself another valorous me, you having your body disposed, agile, dext...

...quick and strong; and these things make the scholar, in a short space of time, become perfect in arms and a fine master.

Ach. In three mornings, Signor Braccioforte, would you have the confidence to make me fully skilled in arms?

B.F. And why not? Indeed, if I wished, in a single day I would teach you to stand most gracefully, like a painting, in all the guards, and to make with the spada [sword] feints under the pugnale [dagger] and over the dagger, to draw it out from below and from above, to turn riversci [backhand cuts], to throw mandritti [forehand cuts], to make passate [passing steps], to make gabbamenti [deceptions/feints], to lengthen and shorten yourself, to grow and shrink yourself, to attack and defend yourself; and all this with heavenly aid, from which every honoured and famous skill of mine derives. And not only to fence well, but also to discourse upon the sword, and to resolve the most difficult questions concerning it.

Ach. Ah, by that immeasurable strength that reigns in your skilful and mighty...

...arm, do not disdain to teach me now to discourse upon arms and to resolve doubts, since this instruction is necessary for whoever wishes to learn, in order to make himself a complete Cavalier.

B.F. I wish to satisfy you, since it is still early for dinner. Now listen. If someone asked you which comes first, the offence or the defence, what would you answer him?

Ach. I would say that the offence comes first, and the reason is this: that if an enemy assaulted me to attack with a scimitar, the offence would come before the defence.

B.F. That is not a good reason; and therefore I say that the defence comes before the offence. I prove it: when nature composes the horse, the ox, or the elephant, or another animal, before it comes forth from its mother's womb, does she not give it a skin, so that it may cover and defend it from the troublesome cold? Yes, you will answer me. Therefore the guard, which comes before the blow that is struck, is the defence; and the blow, which is born from the guard, is the offence. I prove it also with...

...this clearest argument: when you wish to fight, do you not first place yourself in guard, and then set your hands going? Yes, you will answer me. Therefore the guard, which comes before the blow that is struck, is the defence; and the blow, which is born from the guard, is the offence. Hear better still. When you go to fight, do you not first arm yourself with jack-mail, gauntlet, or buckler, and with a half-helm, before with the sword? Yes, you will answer me. Therefore the defence is before the offence, if we put the defensive arms upon ourselves before the offensive ones.

Ach. To dispute this question is like disputing which came first, the cock or the hen. But discourse on something else, for concerning this first doubt I have heard your opinion.

B.F. If a Cavalier asked you who was the Inventor of the Sword, what would you answer him? You stay silent? You do not know it, eh? I will tell it to you. The Architect of the Sword was Tubal Cain, son of...

...Lamech by his wife Zillah; and this weapon was the first to be invented among the others, and therefore the Sword is more noble than any other weapon. And the Emperors, knowing this too, have the unsheathed Sword carried before them, as a sign of Justice administered by them, as if saying that there is no more fitting instrument for Justice, in punishing wrongdoers and protecting good men. And because this weapon is so noble, it displeases me to see it hung at the side of ignoble and vile scoundrels, who say that they carry it because Orlando Furioso said to Mandricardo, "Gird on the Sword, Baron, and it shall be your splendour"; and that, being Barons, this Sword suits them and no other weapon. But if these men had studied Grammar and read the Dictionary, they would know that a Baron is a principal person of the City, and not an infamous man of Campo di Fiore. And I marvel greatly at the Artisans, who leave the business of the shop...

...to go about with a broadsword at their side, playing the gallant in the piazza and the swaggerer through the alleys. Oh, how much better it would be for the Baker to attend to plying the peel, the Cobbler to patch old slippers, the Porter to mend his forelock, the Pork-butcher to salt the Pig, the Doublet-maker to pad the little bellies of doublets, the Blacksmith to beat the sledgehammer, the Herbalist Simpler to root up the sea-garlic or the ivy for ruptures, the Carpenter to ply the adze, the Stone-cutter to blunt chisels in marble, the Turner to make tops or whip-handles for boys, the Butcher to quarter cows, the Fruiterers to shell pods, the Poulterer to stuff geese, the Saddler to make cruppers, the Greengrocer to plant carrots, the Chair-maker to make seats for chairs, the Water-seller to water asses, the Boatman to scrimp and rinse little boats, the Chestnut-roaster to handle pans, the Glass-maker to make cases for urinals, the Basket-maker to cut reeds and willows, the Locksmith...

...to grease rusty locks, the Mattress-maker to card wool, the Pastry-cook to make blancmange, the Fishmonger to scale mullet, the Oil-seller to fill the wineskins, the Rag-dealer to hire out beds, the Purse-maker to make little compartments in purses, the Gunsmith to clean pistol-barrels, the Coppersmith to make spoons and jugs, the Bellows-maker to make bellows and traps, the Charlatan to sell his pellets and ointment for the mange, the Flax-worker to comb the tow, the Tailor to cut bodices and breeches, the Cymbal-maker to feather jack-quills, the Merchant to sell cloth that has a good face and a better back, the Barber to draw blood and set cupping-glasses, the Shoemaker to stretch cow-leather with his teeth, the Brass-worker to polish nail-heads, the Goldsmith to enamel rings, the Bookseller to sell Priscians and Emanuels [grammar books], the Hatter to take the grease off hats, the Hosier to make heels for stockings, the Haberdasher to make tags for laces, the Tinsmith to make squirts for Apothecaries...

...the Apothecary to make pills of scammony to purge, the Gold-beater to stamp goat and wether skins, the Silversmith to make jugs, the Candle-maker to make wicks, the Vat-maker to hoop casks, the Box-maker to make boxes for caviar and little drums for boys, the Weaver to give the size to cloths, the Carrier to lead the beast by hand, the Cart-driver to load boxes for Jews, the Wheel-maker to make sheaths, the Almanac-seller to sell calendars, the Mat-maker to weave mats, the Rosary-makers to give lustre to the bone-beads, the Medal-maker to polish medals, the Furrier to skin ermines and martens and bearskins, the Shirt-maker to make underdrawers, the Silk-worker to beat the silk-grubs, the Trimming-maker to make coach-tassels, the Banner-maker to make fringes for door-curtains, the Embroiderer to embroider stomacher-cloths, the Slipper-maker to rasp cork, the Soap-seller to sell soap to washerwomen, the Chicory-seller to dig up horseradish, the Bitter-orange-seller to sell little lemons and vanilla-pods, the Ball-maker to inflate...

...footballs, the Fritter-maker to sell little comfits, the Comfit-maker to sell handcuffs, the Sword-cutler to make tags for hangers, the Copyist to write correctly, the Money-changer to change coin, the Fisherman to make fishing-bait, the Lantern-maker to saw horn for lanterns, the Comb-maker to saw buffalo-horn, the Puppet-maker to make the old woman who pounds the sauce, the Wood-merchant to enclose forests, the Wine-merchant to give sulphur to the wines, the Nail-maker to make a big head on the nail, the Pot-seller to sell pans, the Broom-seller to sell muck-scrapers, the Tooth-drawer to make oil for the ache that is coming to him and that may yet come to him, the Clog-maker to put buckles on clogs, the Cart-maker to make shafts for carts, the Coach-smith to make the plates on the wheels, the Kiln-maker to make tiles and gutter-tiles, the Glazier to make glass windows for stoves, the Steelyard-maker to put the hooks on the steelyards, the Rush-worker to milk sheep, the Goatherd to guard he-goats and she-goats, the Bath-house keeper...

...to remove crab-lice and hairs, the Fowler to catch redcaps and larks, the Foot-scalder to scald pig-trotters, the Privy-cleaner to fix up latrines, the Mason to make vaults for cellars, the Plasterer to plaster cracks, the Carver to handle burins, the Gilder to gild ceilings, the Bean-seller to sell beans in the husk, the Festoon-maker to make festoons, the Dyer to re-dye stockings, the Blanket-maker to give wool to be spun, the Rope-maker to make ropes for Wells, the Mallet-ball-maker to make the balls round, the Stain-remover to take the oil out of cloths, the Lute-maker to make frets and pegs, the Basket-maker to make baskets for the dung-pit, the Jack-maker to make gauntlets, the Case-maker to make sheaths, the Cloth-shearer to shear cottons, the Cord-maker to clean guts, the Broom-maker to put a straight handle on the broom, the Sieve-maker to make sieves for pozzolana, the Chimney-sweep to ply the pole, and the Whitewasher to give the whitewash to the Sbirri [constables], who ought to carry hangers and half-moons, and not the sword, weapon of Cava-...

...liers unconquered and strong. But let us come to the other doubt.

Ach. Yes, please, for I preserve them all in my memory.

B.F. If a Warrior asked you how many things are necessary to a Bravo [swashbuckler/fighting-man], I want you to answer him promptly that three things are necessary to him: eye, hand, and foot. The eye, to see, when it comes to knife-work, that he does not have more than one other man against him, the proverb running nec Hercules contra duos [not even Hercules against two]; although a brave heart is not frightened if it sees more than one upon it. The hand, to wield the sword, and with it to strike and to parry. And the foot, which has quickness in drawing itself back now, and now sending itself forward. But learn from me how many are the ways of striking, so that if ever in the honoured Schools of Rome you should be asked, you may know how to answer. Three, then, are the ways of striking: punta [thrust], mandritto [forehand cut], and rovescio [backhand cut]; from which three ways are born the fendenti dritti [straight downright cuts], the rover-...

...the mandritto [forehand cut], the falso [false-edge cut] both backhand and forehand, the stoccata [thrust], and the imbroccata [descending thrust]. Now to the other question, why the sword is worn on the left side.

Ach. This question I know, and it is resolved by these arguments: that the sword is worn on the left side because it causes less trouble to that part than to any other, since it does not get in the way of the hands, but rather stays always ready to serve them. It is also worn on the left side, which is the most worthy of all the other parts, because there lies the heart.

B.F. This time, yes, you have answered well. But tell me, which do you believe are the more noble, Arms or Letters?

Ach. Letters, if one goes by the saying, Cedant arma togae [let arms yield to the toga].

B.F. That is utterly false. Arms are more noble than Letters, and I prove it by the authority of the Emperor Justinian, who at the beginning of his Institutes says: Imperatoriam maiestatem non solum armis decoratam, sed etiam legibus op- [It behoves the imperial majesty to be adorned not only with arms, but also armed with laws]

...portet esse armatam. So that Arms, being the more noble, come also to be named first. What more? He who is more noble than another always receives from the Prince the more noble place; and therefore Justice, knowing that Arms surpass Letters in nobility, carries the sword in the right hand and the book in the left. Have I then satisfied you?

Ach. Yes, sir, and I am left quite astonished, thinking on your subtle wit.

B.F. Hear these others. Why is it called roverscio [backhand cut]? It is called roverscio because it has its origin from the left side and finishes on the right side, just as the mandritto [forehand cut] is so called because it is born from the right side and comes to rest on the left.

Ach. Why is it called fendente [descending cut]?

B.F. Because it splits from high to low along a straight edge, or from low to high; nor can one say that it arises more from the right side than from the left. Have you anything else to ask me?

Ach. Many things, and first, what is scrima [fencing/swordplay]?

B.F. Scrima [fencing] is nothing other than a defence, a protection. And so the honoured and good masters of Rome, such as the Signori Orazio and Cesare Cavalcabò, and Camillo Paladino, most excellent men, called the Bolognese; the Signori Francesco and Vincenzo Marcelli, most exquisite men, called the Abruzzesi; and the Signori Appio Castelli, Gio. Angelo Paternostraro, and Antonio Rinaldi, most rare and most famous men, called the Romans (whose fame, all together, resounds like the Trumpet of Triton, from East to West, and from the lairs of the North Wind to the halls of the South Wind), the first time, I say, that they put weapons into the hands of their pupils, teach them how to fence, that is, to defend themselves from any blow that might harm them.

Ach. And what is dritto or falso filo [true or false edge]?

B.F. Dritto filo [true edge] is that cutting edge which looks...

...towards the ground; and the falso [false edge], then, is that which looks towards the air.

Ach. What is a guardia [guard]?

B.F. A guardia [guard] is a settling and a stillness, in some form, with the weapon, either to attack or to defend. Do you wish to ask me anything else?

Ach. Nothing else, my lord, in the superlative degree brave, valorous, and gentle.

B.F. Now let us go to dine, and once we have eaten, I mean to show you an infinity of guards which the fencers do not use, not knowing them perhaps, since they are mine; but they make use only of those that are called: guardia di coda lunga e stretta [long-and-narrow-tail guard], guardia di cinghiara [boar's guard], porta di ferro stretta or larga [narrow or wide iron gate], guardia di testa [head guard], guardia di coda lunga e larga [long-and-wide-tail guard], guardia di becca possa, guardia di becca cesa, and guardia di coda lunga e distesa [long-and-extended-tail guard]. And with this I put an end to my fencing.

THE END.