’Ah!’ he said, ’he could talk. I remember him, a midwife to the wind—as ye all be—as ye all be. What of the fellow?’ Lascaris wondered. ’Little, in truth, Magnificence, save in so far as your Magnificence was pleased to introduce his name.’ ’Did I? I had forgot. What was the connection? Empty words, was it not, and vainglory and presumption?’ ’And discontent. Add it thereto, Illustrious.’ ’Discontent? Of what? The man prospers, I understand, on his school of all the virtues. Discontent? Why, hath he not risen to that independence of power that he dares lampoon his prince? Discontent?’ ’Like Alexander, thou standest in his light, Theosutos.’ ’Discontent?’ ’Ay, that he should be twitted with having schooled a despot.’ ’Why, true; he taught me how to score a lesson with a scourge. My shoulders could tell.’ ’Gods! did he dare?’ ’He dared. ’Twas a fellow of Roman mettle.’ ’He would dare more now.’ ’What?’ ’A republic, so they say.’ ’Ah! he should be the man for visions—a seer, an exorcist.’ ’Short-sighted for a seer, Illustrious. The man cannot see the length of his own nose.’ ’Yet may he see far. I would he were here.’ The prisoner, wrought at last beyond self-control, turned on the Greek and squirted a little shriek of venom— ’Yet through and through thee, thou loathsome, envious pimp!’ Then he whipped upon the other— ’And why not a republic, Galeazzo? Thy father Francesco was a republican at heart, else had he never given his son’s leading-strings into my hands. There was a confederacy dreamed of in his day—Genoa, Milan, and Venice; Florence, Sienna, and Bologna. One rampart to the rolling Alps, one wall on which barbarian hordes might burst and waste themselves in foam. Northwards, a baffled sea; south, all Italy a tranquil haven, a watered garden, where knowledge with all its flowers should find space, and breathing-space to grow. Dost thou love Italy? Then why not a republic, Galeazzo?’ The Duke, as utterly impassive as if he were deaf, turned musingly to Lascaris. ’I heard one talk once,’ said he, ’of a confederacy of republics, as who should say, An army all serfs. Words! The tails must obey the heads. Every ox knows it.’ ’Saving the frog-ox,’ giggled the Greek, ’who bursts himself in emulation.’ ’Ah!’ murmured the Duke, ’the frog-ox: see us tickle his self-puffery.’ He feigned to catch sight all at once of Montano. His eyes opened wide in astonishment: he held out his hands. ’What!’ he cried, ’the man of visions! the very man! Come hither, old friend. I was but now speaking of thee.’ His guards permitting him, Montano sullenly mounted the steps, and stood facing the tyrant. His arms hung very plainly fettered before him; but the other never took his languid, smiling eyes from his face.