It came to pass, however, that he found himself quite unable to finish, according to his own notions, the countenance of the saint; and this disappointment tormented him so exceedingly, that he had no rest by night or by day. He no longer thought of having recourse to his favourite statue of Venus, but it seemed to him as if he beheld his old master Leonardo, who looked at him mournfully, and addressed him in these words--"Alas! I would willingly assist you, but I dare not! You must first renounce all your sinful and shameless propensities, and, in deep repentance and contrition, pray for the interposition of the saints, against whom you have so fearfully offended." The wicked young men, whose society had been long neglected by Francesco, once more sought him out, and found him in his painting room, but wholly unemployed; for, in consequence of his mental anxiety, he had fallen sick, and was lying powerless and despairing on his couch. On the appearance of his friends he complained to them bitterly of his misfortune, and expressed his belief that some malignant demon had interfered to rob him of his former reputation, and would prevent him altogether from completing his picture of St Rosalia. At this they all laughed aloud. "Ha, brother," cried one among them, "it is easy to perceive that solitude and fasting have been the demons that have brought this illness upon you. Come then, my friends, let us devote a libation of good old wine to Esculapius, and the benevolent Hygeia, in order that this feeble youth may again be restored!" They sent immediately for Syracusan wine, which these fantastic young men drank out of antique-fashioned horns, and silver beakers, pouring forth, as they expressed it, their libations to Hygeia, before the unfinished picture. Afterwards, when they began to drink stoutly, and insisted on Francesco joining in their orgies, the latter resolved positively not to taste a drop of their wine, and would take no share in their merriment; although they drank the health of his favourite goddess, and tried every stratagem to flatter his vanity, and engage his attention. At last, one of them exclaimed, "Our _penseroso_ comrade there is perhaps really sick, and cannot so easily be cured as we had supposed. Yet, methinks, he hath acted very wrongfully in refusing to taste the remedies that have been already prescribed for him. Be this as it may, seeing that he is so very ill, I shall directly go hence, and obtain for him the assistance of a learned physician." The youth then threw his mantle around him, girted on his sword, and marched out. Scarcely, however, had he got beyond the door, when he returned again.--"Look you now, comrades," he exclaimed, "I am myself the man who will effectually cure this poor despairing artist!"