Presently my cousin arrived, full-armed and very martial by contrast with the velvety Cardinal. He frowned to see Messer Gambara, then effaced the frown and smiled as, one by one, he greeted us. Last of all he turned to me. “And how fares his saintliness?” quoth he. “Indeed, none too saintly,” said I, speaking my thoughts aloud. He laughed. “Why, then, the sooner we are in orders, the sooner shall we be on the road to mending that. Is it not so, Messer Fifanti? “His ordination will profit you, I nothing doubt,” said Fifanti, with his habitual discourtesy and acidity. “So you do well to urge it.” The answer put my cousin entirely out of countenance a moment. It was a blunt way of reminding me that in this Cosimo I saw one who followed after me in the heirship to Mondolfo, and in whose interests it was that I should don the conventual scapulary. I looked at Cosimo's haughty face and cruel mouth, and conjectured in that hour whether I should have found him so very civil and pleasant a cousin had things been other than they were. O, a very serpent was Messer Fifanti; and I have since wondered whether of intent he sought to sow in my heart hatred of my guelphic cousin, that he might make of me a tool for his own service--as you shall come to understand. Meanwhile, Cosimo, having recovered, waved aside the imputation, and smiled easily. “Nay, there you wrong me. The Anguissola lose more than I shall gain by Agostino's renunciation of the world. And I am sorry for it. You believe me, cousin?” I answered his courteous speech as it deserved, in very courteous terms. This set a pleasanter humour upon all. Yet some restraint abode. Each sat, it seemed, as a man upon his guard. My cousin watched Gambara's every look whenever the latter turned to speak to Giuliana; the Cardinal-legate did the like by him; and Messer Fifanti watched them both. And, meantime, Giuliana sat there, listening now to one, now to the other, her lazy smile parting those scarlet lips--those lips that I had kissed that morning--I, whom no one thought of watching! And soon came Messer Annibale Caro, with lines from the last pages of his translation oozing from him. And when presently Giuliana smote her hands together in ecstatic pleasure at one of those same lines and bade him repeat it to her, he swore roundly by all the gods that are mentioned in Virgil that he would dedicate the work to her upon its completion. At this the surliness became general once more and my Lord Gambara ventured the opinion--and there was a note of promise, almost of threat, in his sleek tones--that the Duke would shortly be needing Messer Caro's presence in Parma; whereupon Messer Caro cursed the Duke roundly and with all a poet's volubility of invective. They stayed late, each intent, no doubt, upon outstaying the others. But since none would give way they were forced in the end to depart together.