"Hypocritical apostate!" I exclaimed, grasping him by the throat, and dashing his mitre to the earth. "Thou pest of hell! thou murderer of my wife, and wrecker of my peace! have we met at last—ha!" "Sacrilege!" cried the strangling bishop. "O, gentlemen and cavaliers, save me from this mad man!" "Madman! ha—peace, thou wolf in sheep’s-clothing! I am Paolo of Casteluccio, and too well thou knowest me: but die, fiend, die!" The strong hand of my friend grasped my descending sword, and the life of the dog bishop was spared; although I dashed him to the floor with such force that he lay stunned and senseless. I laughed with fierce exultation, and strove to trample him to death, but was grasped by a hundred hands. All the smothered fury of years had broken forth; and, imagining I had the strength of a Goliah, I thought to burst, like cobwebs, the fetters which were heaped upon me. I was mad—a maniac; and, knowing that I was so, rejoiced when men who were valiant and strong, quailed before the demon-glare of my eye. The crowded chamber, the gleaming swords, the halberts of the sbirri, the prostrate bishop, and the uproar of tongues are yet before me, like a dream of yesterday: I remember no more. When the passion-fit passed away, and reason returned, I was here, in fetters, amid gloom and woe. Three summers have come and gone, since last I saw the sun. * * * O, signor! all hope of life and liberty had faded away, and your presence alone has revived a love of existence, and a wish to look on the beautiful world once more,—on its blue skies and green hills, ere death closes these eyes for ever." The cavalier concluded just as my lamp was about to expire, and the grey dawn was peeping through the little iron grating which lighted his dismal vault. I gave the unfortunate man my hand, and, leading him forth, struck off his rusty fetters with a stone I found near the chapel door. No pen can describe his joy on finding himself free, and breathing the pure air of the summer morning. The sun was rising in all its beauty above the dark green ridge of the distant hills; for three years he had not beheld it: he wept with joy, and, embracing me, declared, with the enthusiasm of his nation, that his life was at my service. "O, signor! never since I stood by Laura’s side at the altar, have I felt a happiness equal to that which animates me now!" His eyes sparkled with joy, and his haggard cheek flushed. He appeared about thirty years of age; and, but for his tattered garments and matted hair and beard, his features and figure would have been eminently striking and noble. Reminding him that instant flight was necessary, I advised him to join the chivalric Francatripa, with whom he would be safer than in any Italian city. He relished the proposal; as many men of birth and education did not disdain to serve against France under such a leader.