Born in Friuli, son of the free knights Fifty years I bled for this art, sharpened in the night From Johane's lineage, from Nicholai's flame Five duels, sharp steel, no armor - walked away the same Gambeson and chamois, blade against the envious They refused to die well - I obliged, meticulous From Perugia to Padua, Pavia to the court I trained the condottieri - taught them how to war Flos Duellatorum - the Flower bleeds in iron Remedy, counter, contra-contrario Crown and garter - Master, Scholar, Lion The art is science, the science is the bone The Lynx moves with the compass, reads the fight before it comes The Tiger breaks the lightning - faster than the thunder drums The Elephant stands rooted, never falls, never yields The serpent waits in Iron Gate, the Boar's Tooth takes the field Guard of the Lady - high and fell, the queen of all the forms Posta Frontale - crown of the head, the eye of every storm Zogo stretto - narrow game - you've already lost the space Remedy to counter: I will show no mercy to your face I wrote this book in six months' labor, fifty years in the making For those who know the art - and for those who would come taking The false masters, the envious men - they challenged me with steel I answered every one of them. You know how that ordeal feels. Flos Duellatorum - the Flower bleeds in iron Remedy, counter, contra-contrario Crown and garter - Master, Scholar, Lion The art is science, the science is the bone The art is science. The science is the bone.
