“Eminenzas,” I announced, “you know I am bound to you by the ties of hospitality and friendship to do nothing to warn Bari. I owe him no love, and will gladly pleasure you in aiding to work his downfall; but I am fain to recall the command my honored father gave me before his last campaign,--‘slay your man, but with the sword, not the stiletto.’ If, therefore, you continue in your present intent, I can only wish you a very good day, and avow I have no part in your deliberations.” I was moving towards the door, but Rocca called after me. “Ah! noble conte, you do so recall to me that very illustrious Roman, Pontius Pilatus, who once washed his hands when he saw the Jews doing something very wrong.” “I do not thank you for the simile, Cardinale di Rocca,” I said, with my hand on the latch, “but if I am Pilatus, I leave behind me Caiaphas and Herod. And so, _addio_!” I walked away briskly, thoroughly angered at being made party to so crude a transaction. (I did not at that time use a harsher adjective.) I was in fact, in great ill-humor, and was about to work it off by seeking some gayer friends on the Corso, when, upon descending the stairs, I ran upon a grinning Moorish boy who, “Begged to inform his lordship that Donna Marianna awaited him in the Vatican gardens.” FOOTNOTES: [1] This picture seems to have perished in the sack of Rome in 1527 A.D.--EDITOR. CHAPTER II MARIANNA I made my way downward through the huge palace, bowed to this red robe and to that, exchanged greetings with various “Gentlemen Chamberlains” whom I called my friends, promised Monsignore the General of the Dominicans that I would loan him a parcel of Greek books just come from Aldus’s press at Venice, and congratulated Messere Bibbiena on the piquancy and wit of his last comedy--in short, I moved on my way as became a man who knew how to avoid both discourteous haste and needless dallying; until at the entrance gate of the gardens the yellow-clad Swiss guardsman on duty saluted with his halberd, and before me opened the delightful masses of cool shrubbery and green lawn interspersed with the white marble of statuary,--the charming confines of the gardens that I knew so well.