ever been ungrateful to God and have offended him in every way; yet I trust in his mercy. I answered: That is the important thing. _Quare igitur tristis est anima tua, et quare conturbat te? Spera in Deo quoniam adhuc confiteberis illi, salutare vultus tui, et Deus tuus._ Then he said: ’Tis well. And raising himself from the chair he placed himself on the mattress with his chained legs, and continued: Since it pleases God that we are to be the first to give an example to the people, let us begin. But Luca, this confessor? And I: Yes, but you understand that I am not sure if you can have a friar of S. Marco, you know they are gravely suspected and I doubt if they will come here. Is there no one in the Badia you would like? Who is there? he asked. There is the Abbot, Don Giovanni Battista Sacchetti, I replied, and some others who are held to be good confessors. Then he said: I need a man who can touch my heart, see if I can have such a one. Stefano the miniature painter came up and offered to go to S. Marco, in order that he might be contented; then another said: Messer Jacopo Manegli is here, you can have him. But with loud and clear voice he answered: I will not have Messer Jacopo, and turning to Stefano said: Go to S. Marco and fetch him of Lucca (meaning Fra Santi). And I added: If he cannot come, bring Fra Serafino (a friar whose nature I considered was much allied to Boscoli’s). Then addressing those around he said: I pray you do not confuse my head (for one or another was ever going up to him), Luca suffices, he knows my character; if I want anything I can tell him. And taking from his sleeve a paper written by him in prison for his brothers, he told me to give it to them, saying: All my wishes are written here. I leave no burthen on any one, save to pray to God sometimes for me.... Then naming his mother he said: Who will console her in such affliction? Poor woman, the blow will be a hard one. So I replied: Pagolo, I have spoken with her. And he: Is it true? Yes, I answered, I have been there every day since last Sunday, and although the body is weak, nevertheless the spirit is upheld by God; for you know she is of high quality. He answered: Yes, truly she is of high quality.... Now Luca, help me to drive Brutus from my head, that I may die like a good Christian. And I: That will not be difficult as you desire to die a Christian. Besides you know these Roman stories are not written simply and nakedly, but dressed out with much art. He replied: And even if true, what matter they to me as they do not contain the true faith. And I: See, you have answered and helped yourself. Luca, he said, do not praise me. And I: I am here to aid you. Tell me all your wants, with God’s help, I will try to comfort you; and yet, ’tis you who comfort me. He replied: My intellect, but with difficulty, believes in the true faith and desires to die like a Christian. But my heart seems hard, and I cannot explain my thoughts even to myself. And I: I