’May’st think so, beast; but I know myself damned as an unbaptized one, to no lower than the first circle of our Father Dante.’ ’Wert thou not baptized?’ ’Do I not say so? And, therefore, lacking that grace, exonerated.’ ’What’s that?’ ’Not responsible for my acts, pig.’ ’Who says so?’ ’Dante.’ ’Who’s he? Has a’ been there? I would not believe him. What doth a’ say o’ me?’ ’_You_? That you shall choke for all eternity in a river of blood.’ ’Anan!’ said Narcisso, and blew, scowling, on his sausage, which had become ignited. ’That’s neither sense nor justice, master. I kill by the decalogue, I do. Did I ever put out a man’s eyes for sport?’ ’It’s no matter,’ answered Tassino. ’Thou wert baptized.’ ’What will they do to thee?’ ’I shall be forbidden the Almighty’s countenance, no more—punishment enough, of course, for a person of taste; but I must e’en make shift to do without.’ ’It’s not fair,’ growled Narcisso. ’I had no hand in my own christening. Do without? Narry penalty in doing without what you’ve never asked nor wanted.’ A figure that had stolen noiselessly into the room as they spoke, and was standing watching, with its cloak caught to its face, sniggered, literally, in its sleeve. Tassino snapped rebelliously at the knife point, and began to eat without ceremony. ’Punishment enough,’ he whined, ’if it means such a life in death as this.’ He sobbed and munched, quarrelling with his meat. ’How canst thou understand! The foul fiend betray him who condemned me to it! That saint; O, that saint! If I could only once trip _his_ soul by the heels!’ ’No need, my poor Tassino,’ murmured a sympathetic voice; ’indeed, I think, there is no need.’ The prisoner staggered from his stool, and stood shaking and gulping. ’Messer Ludovico!’ he gasped. ’How——’ ’By the door, my child—plainly, by the door,’ interrupted the Prince smoothly. And then he smiled: ’Alas! thou hast no ante-room here for the scotching of undesirable suitors.’ The terrified creature had not a word to say. One could almost hear his fat heart thumping. Ludovico, lowering his cloak a little, made an acrid face. The room offended his particular nostrils: its atmosphere was nothing less than sticky. But, reflecting on the choice moral of it, he looked at the little tarnished clinquant before him, and was content to endure. He even affected a pleasant envy. ’This is worth all the glamour of courts,’ he said, waving his hand comprehensively. ’To eat, or lie down; to go in or out as thou will’st. Never to know that suspicion of thine own shadow on the wall. To waste no words in empty phrases, nor need the wealth to waste on empty show. What a rich atmosphere hath this untroubled, irresponsible freedom; it is a very meal of itself! I would I could say, For ever rest and grow fat thereon; but, alas! I bring discomforting news. My poor Tassino. I fear the fortress at last shows signs of yielding.’