Clement considered this an excellent device, and bade Pompeo do as he suggested. And so, that same evening, as Cellini was about to be taken to the cell assigned him, a chamberlain made his appearance, and informed the goldsmith that his Holiness accepted his ultimatum, and demanded the delivery of the chalice or the five hundred crowns without delay. Benvenuto replied that they had but to take him to his workshop, and he would give them the five hundred crowns. He was escorted thither by four Swiss, accompanied by the chamberlain. He entered his bedroom, drew a key from his pocket, opened a small iron closet built into the wall, plunged his hand into a large bag, took out five hundred crowns, and, having given them to the chamberlain, showed him and the four Swiss the door. It should be said, in justice to Benvenuto Cellini, that they received four crowns for their trouble, and in justice to the Swiss, that they kissed his hands as they took their leave. The chamberlain returned forthwith to the Holy Father, and delivered the five hundred crowns, whereupon his Holiness, in his desperation, flew into a violent rage, and began to abuse Pompeo. "Go thyself to my great engraver at his workshop, animal," he said, "employ all the soothing arguments of which thy ignorant folly is capable, and say to him that if he will consent to finish my chalice, I will give him whatever facilities he may require." "But, your Holiness," said Pompeo, "will it not be time to-morrow morning?" "I fear lest it be already too late this evening, imbecile, and I do not choose that Benvenuto shall sleep upon his wrath; therefore do my bidding on the instant, and let me not fail to have a favorable reply to-morrow morning at my levée." Pompeo thereupon left the Vatican with drooping feathers, and repaired to Benvenuto's workshop; it was closed. He peered through the key-hole and through the cracks in the door, and scrutinized all the windows, one after another, to see if there was not one which showed a light; but all were dark. He ventured to knock a second time somewhat louder than at first, and then a third time, still louder. Thereupon a window on the first floor opened, and Benvenuto appeared in his shirt, arquebus in hand. "Who's there?" he demanded. "I," the messenger replied. "Who art thou?" rejoined the goldsmith, although he recognized his man at once. "Pompeo." "Thou liest," said Benvenuto; "I know Pompeo well, and he is far too great a coward to venture out into the streets of Rome at this hour." "But, my dear Cellini, I swear--" "Hold thy peace! thou art a villain, and hast taken the poor devil's name to induce me to open my door, and then to rob me." "Master Benvenuto, may I die--" "Say but another word," cried Benvenuto, pointing the arquebus toward his interlocutor, "and that wish of thine will be gratified." Pompeo fled at full speed, crying "Murder!" and disappeared around the corner of the nearest street.