At Gonzaga's invitation, very gladly I there and then swore fealty to the
Emperor upon his hands, and then, with Bianca and Gervasio, I made my way
through the cheering crowd and came out into the sunshine, where my lances,
who had already heard the news, set up a great shout at sight of me.
Thus we crossed the square, and went to the Duomo, to render thanks. We
knelt at the altar-rail, and Gervasio knelt above us upon the altar's
lowest step.
Somewhere behind us knelt Bianca's women, who had followed us to the
church.
Thus we waited for close upon two hours that were as an eternity.
And kneeling there, the eyes of my soul conned closely the scroll of my
young life as it had been unfolded hitherto. I reviewed its beginnings in
the greyness of Mondolfo, under the tutelage of my poor, dolorous mother
who had striven so fiercely to set my feet upon the ways of sanctity. But
my ways had been errant ways, even though, myself, I had sought to walk as
she directed. I had strayed and blundered, veered and veered again, a very
mockery of what she strove to make me--a strolling saint, indeed, as Cosimo
had dubbed me, a wandering mummer when I sought after holiness.
But my strolling, my errantry ended here at last at the steps of this
altar, as I knew.
Deeply had I sinned.
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