EPILOGUE

ANDnowmanyyearshavepassed,andthenoblegentleman,FilippoBrandoliniisthepoormonkGiulianothegorgeousclothes,velvetsandsatins,havegivenwaytothebrownsackclothoftheSeraphicFatherandinsteadofgoldenbeltsmywaistisgirtwithahempencord.Andinme,whatchangeshavetakenplace!Thebrownhair,whichwomenkissed,isalittlecircletinsignoftheRedeemer'scrown,anditisaswhiteassnow.Myeyesaredimandsunken,mycheeksarehollow,andtheskinofmyyouthisashyandwrinkledthewhiteteethofmymouthhavegone,butmytoothlessgumssufficeforthemonkishfareandIamoldandbentandweak. OnedayinthespringIcametotheterracewhichoverlookstheplain,andasIsatdowntowarmmyselfinthesunshine,gazingatthebroadcountrywhichnowIknewsowell,andthedistanthills,thewishcametometowritethehistoryofmylife. Andnowthat,too,isdone.IhavenothingmoretotellexceptthatfromthedaywhenIarrived,wearyofsoul,tothecoolshadeofthefirtrees,Ihavenevergoneintotheworldagain.IgavemylandsandpalacestomybrotherinthehopethathewouldmakebetteruseofhislifethanI,andtohimIgavethechargeofseeingthatheirsweregiventotheancientname.IknewIhadfailedineverything.Mylifehadgonewrong,IknownotwhyandIhadnotthecouragetoadventurefurther.Iwithdrewfromthebattleinmyunfitness,andlettheworldpassonandforgetmypoorexistence. Checcolivedon,schemingandintriguing,wearingawayhislifeinattemptstoregainhisfatherland,andalwayshewasdisappointed,alwayshishopesfrustrated,tillatlasthedespaired.Andaftersixyears,wornoutwithhisfruitlessefforts,mourningthegreatnesshehadlost,andpiningforthecountryhelovedsowell,hediedofabrokenheart,anexile. Matteowentbacktohisarmsandtherecklesslifeofthesoldieroffortune,andwaskilledbravelyfightingagainsttheforeigninvader,anddied,knowingthathisefforts,too,hadbeeninvain,andthatthesweetlandofItalylayfallenandenslaved. AndIdonotknowwhethertheyhadnotthebetterlotfor