“‘My dear fellow,’ he said, I am sent by our ambassador to invite you to come to the embassy this evening. He gives a magnificent concert, and when I tell you that La Zambinella will be there--’ “‘Zambinella!’ cried Sarrasine, thrown into delirium by that name; ‘I am mad with love of her.’ “‘You are like everybody else,’ replied his comrade. “‘But if you are friends of mine, you and Vien and Lauterbourg and Allegrain, you will lend me your assistance for a _coup de main_, after the entertainment, will you not?’ asked Sarrasine. “‘There’s no cardinal to be killed? no--?’ “‘No, no!’ said Sarrasine, ‘I ask nothing of you that men of honor may not do.’ “In a few moments the sculptor laid all his plans to assure the success of his enterprise. He was one of the last to arrive at the ambassador’s, but he went thither in a traveling carriage drawn by four stout horses and driven by one of the most skilful _vetturini_ in Rome. The ambassador’s palace was full of people; not without difficulty did the sculptor, whom nobody knew, make his way to the salon where La Zambinella was singing at that moment. “‘It must be in deference to all the cardinals, bishops, and _abbes_ who are here,’ said Sarrasine, ‘that _she_ is dressed as a man, that _she_ has curly hair which _she_ wears in a bag, and that _she_ has a sword at her side?’ “‘She! what she?’ rejoined the old nobleman whom Sarrasine addressed. “‘La Zambinella.’ “‘La Zambinella!’ echoed the Roman prince. ‘Are you jesting? Whence have you come? Did a woman ever appear in a Roman theatre? And do you not know what sort of creatures play female parts within the domains of the Pope? It was I, monsieur, who endowed Zambinella with his voice. I paid all the knave’s expenses, even his teacher in singing. And he has so little gratitude for the service I have done him that he has never been willing to step inside my house. And yet, if he makes his fortune, he will owe it all to me.’