The Emperor raised his hand. A Spanish guards-captain approached instantly, and stood at attention. Then again Charles spoke. “This nobleman here is under arrest. It is to be understood that he is mentally unpoised and irresponsible. His Eminence of Forli has consented to conduct him back to his friends and estates in Italy. For many high reasons this case is to be kept from vulgar rumor. You will take the prisoner back to the Cardinal’s apartments, and later the Cardinal will keep him in such a manner of custody as he may prefer, and take such measures as he may see fit for the conveyance of this unfortunate man to Italy.” The officer’s hands fell on my shoulder. I drew myself up calmly, and offered him my walking sword. It was indeed a pitiful weapon, and he almost smiled as he took it. “You see I am not a dangerous maniac, señor,” said I, under breath; then I bowed ceremoniously to the Emperor. He looked after me with his hard, fishlike eyes. Never again did I meet him face to face. Often I think of him, as he who might, had Heaven opened his vision, have been the friend, not the foe, of the Reformation; and by his skilful fostering of the Cause, have saved infinite tumult, and hatred, and blood; yea, have saved Christendom from being severed into two cursing and hostile camps. But it was not so ordered, and let no man forget that his Spanish mother was the daughter of Isabella the Catholic. Judge him not harshly; yet I hold he was one of the world’s wise and mighty, who saw the hour of opportunity at hand, and then in Dante’s phrase, “made the great refusal.”... All the way back to his chambers Forli followed me, his face crimson, and gnawing at his rings in sheer rage. Then he burst out, bellowing the words into my face. “Fool!” he cried, “fool! German, German sheep and fool!” As for me, I walked to my captivity right happily; I had not betrayed my soul. * * * * * I had expected to be flung back into my prison cell, but that was spared me. On the contrary, I was allowed almost the same apartments as before, except now in my rooms all the windows were so high and small it was impossible to peer from them. There could be no illusion as to my fate, however. Hardly had I returned from the Emperor when a low-browed armorer entered, and stood before me sheepishly. “It is commanded, your Lordship. Take no offence.” And with that apology, and with a grin possibly sympathetic, he proceeded to snap about my ankles and wrists fetters, light indeed and not painful, but connected by thin, keenly tempered chains which effectively prevented me from taking more than the shortest step, or even moving my hands enough for elegant eating. Hardly was he gone, than after him came Forli’s chief body-servant with bowl, razor, and shears, who with a smirk fit to enrage a Socrates, bade me to submit whilst he shaved off my mustache and beard, and clipped my hair exceeding close, thus altering my whole appearance.