Glorious Ones Read Online Free PDF

talking about their wives and children; she’d have serenaded them with poetry so sweet that the tears would have blinded their eyes. But Vittoria was the lady of the troupe then. It was a different story. All she did was make everyone sick.’
    At last, I lost patience with the whole situation. “Hey!” I shouted, poking Francesco Andreini. “Look at that Captain of ours over there! Instead of getting us out of this mess, he’s quaking in his boots, because Vittoria’s being mean to him. Why not take over, Andreini, and keep us from rotting in here like rats in a trap? That feeble old man’s unfit to be our leader!”
    Andreini looked at the Captain, then back at me. “Flaminio is not yet thirty,” he replied, in that confident, maddening way of his. “He’s hardly what you might call feeble. I’m still willing to trust him.”
    That’s the kind of bastard Francesco Andreini was! He left me standing there, looking bad, dirty-handed, the only traitor in the loyal band. But he knew I was right—not five minutes later, he walked quietly towards the entrance, and beckoned to the Huguenot leader.
    From inside the cave, we watched Andreini, drooping over the Frenchman. Francesco was skinny as a rail in those days; beneath that halo of light, curly hair, he looked like a sunflower. He argued for almost an hour, gesturing, like a natural-born Frenchman, with those long, spidery hands.
    At last, the commander nodded, and Francesco reentered the cave. And at that moment, when I saw the hot look Vittoria gave him, I knew that Francesco Andreini had begun to direct another nasty little drama.
    Flaminio, too, saw that look on her face. “What happened?” he asked, playing that cowardly role which came to him so naturally.
    “In three days,” Andreini replied, “we will be free.”
    “Dead or alive?” asked the Captain.
    “Exactly,” snapped Francesco. “Dead or alive.”
    After a brief pause, he continued. “I have persuaded the Huguenots that their interests might be better served if they allowed the French king to ransom us for a small fortune. They have sent a courier to Blois. And, in seventy-two hours, we will learn of the royal decision.”
    “You’re not so clever, Andreini,” I shouted, enraged by the smugness on his big moon-face. “You just know how to reach that greedy pig hidden inside of everyone.”
    Francesco only smiled at me, in a way which made me want to strangle him. Then, he sat down to wait.
    And, for the first time, we followed his lead. Sitting and sleeping on the cold ground, we waited out the long three days. What else was there to do?
    All that time, Francesco Andreini remained calm. He never grew restless, no matter how loudly those cowardly actors whimpered and moaned—nor did he move a muscle at the end, when the sight of that messenger riding up with twenty sacks of gold made those fools jump up and crack their skulls against the roof of the cave.
    Andreini’s calmness surprised me; I’d thought I was the only brave one in the bunch. But, as we gathered our things and prepared to leave the cave, Andreini did something which surprised me even more.
    “Wait!” he cried, blocking the entrance with his long arms. “Perhaps Brighella was right. Perhaps I should be the one to take the first steps out of here.”
    We froze in our tracks; our mouths hung open. In those days, we never imagined that Andreini would seriously consider such a thing. Even when I’d suggested it, I’d been joking; I didn’t mean it.
    Flaminio was facing outwards, towards the light. He straightened his shoulders, and, without turning around, began to speak.
    “If you still intend to perform before the King of France next week,” he said, “I suggest that you remain beneath the leadership of the most talented actor, director, stagehand, musician, and singer among you. Unless you desire to disgrace yourselves before royalty, I suggest that you stay beneath the brilliant command of Flaminio Seal a,