’Galeazzo,’ said the scholar, harsh and quick, ’I did not write the epigrams; but no matter. You seek to make an example; I submit myself. It is the despot’s part to lay hands on order and sobriety. Despatch, then. Thou wilt serve my ends better than thine own. Every blow to freedom is a link gone from thy mail.’ The Duke listened to him as if in bland wonder. ’Epigrams! An example!’ he exclaimed. ’O, surely there is some mistake here.’ The thick brows of the prisoner contracted over his leaden eyes. He set his teeth, breathing between them. Galeazzo appealed to Lascaris:— ’Know’st aught of this?’ The Greek shook his head ineffably, licking his lips. ’No,’ said Galeazzo, ’nor is it conceivable that my old friend and reprover should condescend to that meaner scourge. Jesu! for one of his learning and condition to incur the fate of the common lampooner. Why, I mind me how one was invited to a ragout minced of his own tongue.’ ’Yes, Illustrious.’ ’And another to having his couplets scored in steel on the soles of his feet.’ ’Yes, Illustrious.’ ’And yet another to boiling eggs under his arm-pits, since he was clever at hatching those winged epigrams’—he turned smoothly again to the tutor—’but not clever, as thou art, at reforming constitutions.’ He fell back, with a sleek and hateful smile; then, sighing suddenly, advanced his body again. ’I am troubled, Montano, I am troubled, and, since you chance to be here——’ He yielded the explanation to Lascaris. ’I weary of relating. Tell him of my symptoms, thou’—and he sunk once more into his cushions. The Greek diagnosed, his shifty eyes refusing to encounter the hard inquisition of the other’s:— ’His Magnificence is of late ever conscious of a face behind him, mournful and threatening. And still, if he turns to challenge it, it is behind him; and still behind, maddening him with a thought of something he can never overtake.’ Galeazzo fixed his burning eyes on the prisoner, as if, through all his mockery, the hunger of a hopeless hope betrayed his soul. ’Canst _thou_ strike it away,’ he whispered hoarsely, ’or at least tell me what it is?’ Montano growled:— ’Ghosts, and dead years, and eye-particles! This trash of pseudo-science—a saltimbanco braying in a doctor’s skin! Less licence, Galeazzo, and more exercise—’tis all contained in that. This vision is but a swimming blot of bile.’ He was really half-deceived, half-convinced. The Duke seemed to listen reassured, then slowly rose, and, with an ingratiatory smile, patted his erst tutor’s shoulder. ’Old honest friend,’ he said, ’and ever true to the Roman in thee! Thou hast spoken as one might expect. Bile, is it—bile? and little wonder in this upset of constitutions. Ebbene! we will take instant means to throw it off.’ He made a sign to the chief of the guard below. ’Andrea!’ Lascaris slunk back with a little gloating smile. The officer brought up his men about Montano. The Duke murmured softly:—