When his point was gained and his election assured, he threw off the mask he had worn for fourteen years or more and appeared in his true colours. It was a complete transformation. He no longer leaned painfully on his crutches, but held himself erect, gave up coughing, and spoke with a strong and authoritative voice; his manner was completely changed, his humility was gone; he ceased to be quiet and submissive, and treated everyone with marked haughtiness, more especially those who had helped him to the papal throne, and ignoring their reminders, boldly declared he meant to rule alone; that with God’s assistance he felt strong enough to insure a good government. The people now viewed with astonishment the seemingly worn-out old man who had suddenly developed so much vigour and determination. His strongly lined face, his firm mouth, his small, but brilliant brown eyes, were those of a masterful man, born to command. Many emotions played upon his countenance; at one time kindliness, even tenderness, and again his features hardened into severity. His complexion was swarthy, his cheeks high coloured, his cheek bones prominent; he wore his beard full and bushy--it was auburn in colour fast turning into gray; his whole person was impressive, imposing rather than majestic; there was nothing regal in his manner, but it was plainly evident that he was master. Pope Sixtus had barely ascended the throne of St. Peter when it was felt that the reins of power were grasped by powerful hands. He made it clear at once that he was bent upon securing peace and good order in his dominions. The day after his election, he summoned the conservators of the city to his presence and sternly bade them to see that justice was firmly administered. In an edict published before his coronation, he forbade the carrying of fire arms and visited the breach of this injunction with the extreme penalty of the law. Four young brothers were taken with arquebuses in their hands, tried, convicted and sentenced to death. As the coronation procession filed across the bridge of St. Angelo, it met the ghastly spectacle of these four corpses swinging in the air. It had been the custom on coronation day to throw open the prison gates and make a general gaol delivery. But when the governor of St. Angelo came to Sixtus seeking the usual permission, he was angrily rebuked and reminded that it was no affair of his, in the following words: “Pardons do not come within your scope; acts of grace are my prerogative and now that I find my predecessor has left the judges idle for thirteen years, I intend to make up for his neglect. No one shall be released except by process of law. Let all prisoners be brought to speedy trial so that the prisons may be emptied of their present occupants and room made for others. I will not bare the sword in vain, but will execute judgment upon all wrong doers.” He gave orders then that four of the most notorious offenders in St. Angelo should be tried