The king took it and read it with slowness and evident difficulty. "This is too much," he said when he had done, "Signor Pierro Capponi has some show of reason for his anger. My Lord Bishop, these terms must be mitigated. I will retire to another chamber and leave you with the magistrates of the city to decide upon some more equitable arrangement, with his Eminence here to moderate between you. What I demand is that compensation shall be made in gold for the expense and delay to which I have been subjected by the resistance of strong places in a country professing to be friendly to me; and that sufficient security be given that my return to France, when it pleases me, shall not be interrupted. Your council had better be held in private. There are too many persons present. Let all but my council and the Signoria of Florence follow me." Thus saying, he rose and left the hall. The result is well known. A large sum of money, part of which found its way into the purses of the king's counsellors, and vague promises of alliance and security, were all that the Florentines had to pay; and the lesson of the morning was sufficiently impressive to produce better discipline and forbearance amongst the French troops than they had exercised elsewhere. CHAPTER XX. On, those days of happiness, how soon they come to an end! Poets and philosophers have attempted in vain to convey to the mind by figures and by argument the brevity of enjoyment, and the great master only came near the truth when he declared it was-- "Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say--Behold! The jaws of darkness do devour it up." Enjoyment is the most brief of all things, for its very nature is to destroy time. Like the fabled monster of one of the Indian tribes--we drink up the waters in which we float, and leave ourselves at last on a dry and arid shore. But if enjoyment be so transient, hope is permanent. Well did the ancients represent her as lingering behind after all else had flown out of the casket of Pandora. She does linger still in the casket of every human heart, whether it be joys or evils that pass away. "Quando il miser dispera La speranza parla e dice, Sta su, tienti, vivi, e spera Che sarai ancor felice. * * * * "Ogni casa al mondo manca La speranza mai si perde." So sang Serafino l'Aquilano, a poet of the days of Lorenzo and Leonora, and for a time at least they found the song true. Hope remained after happiness had passed; but yet how bright were those days and nights of happiness which the two young lovers passed in Florence!