Cosimo saw and smiled. He was very sure of himself by now. “The only witness whose word would carry weight would be the late Lord of Pagliano,” he said. “And the prisoner is more crafty than honest in naming one who is dead. Your excellency will know the precise importance to attach to that.” Again his excellency nodded. Could it indeed be that I was enmeshed? My calm deserted me. “Will Messer Cosimo tell your excellency under what circumstances the Lord of Pagliano died?” I cried. “It is yourself should be better able to inform the Court of that,” answered Cosimo quickly, “since he died at Pagliano after you had borne his daughter thither, as we have proof.” Gonzaga looked at him sharply. “Are you implying, sir, that there is a further crime for which Messer Agostino d'Anguissola should be indicted?” he inquired. Cosimo shrugged and pursed his lips. “I will not go so far, since the matter of Ettore Cavalcanti's death does not immediately concern me. Besides, there is enough contained in the indictment as it stands.” The imputation was none the less terrible, and could not fail of an effect upon the minds of the Ten. I was in despair, for at every question it seemed that the tide of destruction rose higher about me. I deemed myself irrevocably lost. The witnesses I might have called were as good as gagged. Yet there was one last question in my quiver--a question which I thought must crumple up his confidence. “Can you tell his excellency where you were upon your marriage night?” I cried hoarsely, my temples throbbing. Superbly Cosimo looked round at the Court; he shrugged, and shook his head as if in utter pity. “I leave it to your excellency to say where a man should be upon his marriage night,” he said, with an astounding impudence, and there were some who tittered in the crowd behind me. “Let me again beg your excellency and your worthinesses to pass to judgment, and so conclude this foolish comedy.” Gonzaga nodded gravely, as if entirely approving, whilst with a fat jewelled hand he stroked his ample chin. “I, too, think that it is time,” he said, whereupon Cosimo, with a sigh of relief, would have resumed his seat but that I stayed him with the last thing I had to say. “My lord,” I cried, appealing to Gonzaga, “the true events of that night are set forth in a memorial of which two copies were drawn up, one for the Pope and the other for your excellency, as the Emperor's vicegerent. Shall I recite its contents--that Messer Cosimo may be examined upon them. “It is not necessary,” came Gonzaga's icy voice. “The memorial is here before me.” And he tapped a document upon the table. Then he fixed his prominent eyes upon Cosimo. “You are aware of its contents?” he asked. Cosimo bowed, and Galeotto moved at last, for the first time since the trial's inception.