“Madonna Marianna,” spoke I, striving hard to control my powers, “for all you have done for me, so far as it was done in friendly kindness, I bring full gratitude. The Emperor has consented to await my answer, you and your father cannot show greater importunity than he. But know you this. My errand to Rome, if performed, will be a dreadful one. Your father and his friends will cry out the loudest at my scourge. I shall curry no more favor with His Holiness.” “We understand, we clearly understand. My father made it most plain to the Emperor he has no personal love for Leo. We know you will never mar _our_ fortunes.” I held out my hand, beckoning her to cease. “Madonna, if indeed your devotion is not of word only, do me one favor. Question me not, leave me unurged, unsolicited, this night and during the morning. As a free man, with a free mind and will I must decide the Emperor’s ‘yea’ or ‘nay.’ Therefore no more of this. But tell me if I am a prisoner within this castle. What are the bounds to my liberty?” “Within the castle you are wholly free. The Emperor has come hither with the Spaniards and Italians of his court to enjoy a few days of respite from the “ja’s” and beer-swilling of your Germans at Worms. The guards have orders to halt you at the gates. Inside go where you will. You were brought here thus secretly that you might break wholly with your heretic friends and your degraded past, that like a new star you might emerge to shine dazzling in your true firmament hereafter. Within this castle, saving a few menials and nuns, there are only men and women of the South. To-night you resume that glorious life broken off when the fiends tempted you to leave dear Italy, the life of laughter and noble mirth, of sunshine amid the roses.” But again I forbade her words. Prompted by some angel, I asked a question. “You said there were some German nuns within the castle. How is that?” “How can I recall the name? An abbess from a strange abbey. She prefers residence here to the crowded town. Her chambers lie not far from these. The abbey of Qued--your German names are so rough! _Santo Dio_, you are white and fainting!”-- “I have been on the rack these days,” I said, clutching a pillar, “you must bear with me. I need food and drink. Go from me, Madonna. Leave me to my own thoughts, or by my father’s soul you are my foe forever.”