en his intention to conciliate, since
hurt him he could not.

Sufficiently severe had been the lesson he had received for meddling
with Imperial fiefs; and he must have been mad had he thought of
provoking further the resentment of the Emperor. To Farnese, Charles V
was a sleeping dog it was as well to leave sleeping.

He rode, then, upon his friendly visit into the Castle of Pagliano,
attended by a vast retinue of courtiers and ladies, pages, lackeys, and
a score of men-at-arms. A messenger had ridden on in advance to
warn Cavalcanti of the honour that the Duke proposed to do him,
and Cavalcanti, relishing the honour no whit, yet submitting out of
discreetness, stood to receive his excellency at the foot of the marble
staircase with Bianca on one side and myself upon the other.

Under the archway they rode, Farnese at the head of the cavalcade. He
bestrode a splendid white palfrey, whose mane and tail were henna-dyed,
whose crimson velvet trappings trailed almost to the ground. He was
dressed in white velvet, even to his thigh-boots, which were laced with
gold and armed with heavy gold spurs. A scarlet plume was clasped by a
great diamond in his velvet cap, and on his right wrist was perched a
hooded falcon.

He was a tall and gracefully shaped man of something over forty years of
age, black-haired and olive-skinned, wearing a small pointed beard that
added length to his face. His nose was aquiline, and he had fine eyes,
but under them there were heavy brown shadows, and as he came nearer it
was seen that his countenance was marred by an unpleasant eruption of
sores.

After him came his gentlemen, a round dozen of them, with half that
number of splendid ladies, all a very dazzling company. Behind these,
in blazing liveries, there was a cloud of pages upon mules, and lackeys
leading sumpter-beasts; and then to afford them an effective background,
a grey, steel phalanx of men-at-arms.

I describe his entrance as it appeared at a glance, for I did not study
it or absorb any of its details. My horrified gaze was held by a figure
that rode on his right hand, a queenly woman with a beautiful pale
countenance and a lazy, insolent smile.

It was Giuliana.

How she came there I did not at the moment trouble to reflect. She was
there. That was the hideous fact that made me doubt the sight of my own
eyes, made me conceive almost that I was at my disordered visions again,
the fruit of too much brooding. I felt as if all