“Then you will be amply rewarded,” he said; “then you may strip all those temples of their ornaments and slay their priests. I give you each a cardinal, but I reserve to myself the Sovereign Pontiff. You know what I mean to do with him,” added the sacrilegious wretch, producing his golden chain, and laughing loudly. “Before you hang him, you must make him deliver up all his treasures--the tons of gold he has hidden in the Vatican and elsewhere,” said Zucker. “Fear not that,” rejoined Von Frundsberg, with a tremendous roar of laughter. “I know well how to deal with him. But I must fulfil my mission. Have I not been told by Doctor Martin Luther himself that I am destined by Heaven to cast down Antichrist and to wash out the enormities of the polluted and idolatrous city of Rome in blood? For this purpose I have come hither.” At this moment his eye alighted upon Bourbon, and he called out, “Welcome, noble general! thrice welcome! We are making merry, as you see, in anticipation of our victory. Our next carouse shall be in Rome, and it shall be a rare one--ho! ho!” “You have sat late enough, and drank enough, baron,” said Bourbon, glancing around at the inebriated crew. “We shall march betimes to-morrow, and you will need clear heads.” “One more cup of wine, and we have done,” said Von Frundsberg. “Nay, you must join us, general,” he added to Bourbon, who shook his head. “We have got some famous Montepulciano, of the Pope's own vintage, and destined to the Pope's own cellar--ho! ho! Taste it, I pray your highness. You will find it delicious,” smacking his lips. “Fill for me! fill!” he called to a soldier who served him, holding out an immense gilt chalice stolen from an altar at San Lorenzo-alle-Grotte--“fill to the brim! All must do me reason. It may be the last cup we shall drink together. Who knows?” “You do not mean to empty that chalice, baron?” said Bourbon, looking in astonishment at the vessel, which held nearly a gallon of wine. “By my faith! but I do, your highness,” rejoined Von Frundsberg, with a tremendous roar of laughter. “I drink to the speedy downfall of Rome.” And, as he spoke, he raised the brimming chalice to his lips, and did not remove it till it was completely drained. After accomplishing this feat, he gazed at Bourbon, but his triumph was of short duration. With a convulsive attempt at utterance, which shook his whole frame, he fell heavily backwards. Immediate assistance was rendered him, but it was of no avail. Suffocated by the draught he had swallowed, in a few seconds the infuriated drunkard had ceased to exist. Bourbon shuddered as he gazed at the inanimate mass, and all the fierce soldiers around were impressed by the catastrophe. Von Frundsberg died with the chain of gold tightly clasped, in his left hand.