THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
Luigi Cortanto by name, who was not held in much esteem by anybody, being of a low family, as poor as a rat, and of a small insignificant figure. Besides these defects he was a quiet and shy sort of a man, who was happiest when people would leave him alone either with his lamp, his papers and his ink, or in some cool alley or arbour where he could pace up and down with his eyes on the ground, or sit dreaming and imagining those choice conceits which have earned an eternal glory for him. And the duke had summoned him to San Giuliano and entertained him there, because of some verses in the Greek language made by this Luigi aforesaid, the which were so artfully conceited and ingeniously made out that they were published among all the lettered men of Italy, and so mightily enchanted my lord that he must needs have the author at his castle. But in fact Messer Contanto did not himself esteem highly this kind of work, for his whole delight was in a Book of Pastoralls in the speech of Tuscany; the which he was fashioning with sweet and mellifluous eloquence after the model of Virgil the great master. And this piece it is which has kept his name alive and is to this day a fragrant memorial of him, but then all these pastoral songs were known only to himself, and were hidden in a chest in his cell at San Giuliano. Who then was surprised but Messer Luigi when his mistress began to make sweet eyes at him, and to let glances fall in his way that no man might mistake; since he thought his cassock was shabby enough to keep off all darts of Love, and had been used to look
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