a long time they had secretly
plotted a master-stroke of violence, spending money freely among the
people, and using all persuasion to bring the country to their side, yet
with such skill and caution that not the slightest warning reached the
Pope's ears. In calm security he rose early on the morning of the
seventh of September. He believed his position assured, his friends
loyal and the Colonna ruined for ever; and Colonna was at the gate.

Suddenly, from below the walls, a cry of words came up to the palace
windows; long drawn out, distinct in the still mountain air. 'Long live
the King of France! Death to Pope Boniface!' It was taken up by hundreds
of voices, and repeated, loud, long and terrible, by the people of the
town, by men going out to their work in the hills, by women loitering on
their doorsteps, by children peering out, half frightened, from behind
their mothers' scarlet woollen skirts, to see the armed men ride up the
stony way. Cardinals, chamberlains, secretaries, men-at-arms, fled like
sheep; and when Colonna reached the palace wall, only the Pope's own
kinsmen remained within to help him as they could, barring the great
doors and posting themselves with crossbows at the grated window. For
the Caetani were always brave men.

But Boniface knew that he was lost, and calmly, courageously, even
grandly, he prepared to face death. 'Since I am betrayed,' he said, 'and
am to die, I will at least die as a Pope should!' So he put on the great
pontifical chasuble, and set the tiara of Constantine upon his head,
and, taking the keys and the crosier in his hands, sat down on the papal
throne to await death.

The palace gates were broken down, and then there was no more
resistance, for the defenders were few. In a moment Colonna in his
armour stood before the Pontiff in his robes; but he saw only the enemy
of his race, who had driven out his great kinsmen, beggars and wanderers
on the earth, and he lifted his visor and looked long at his victim, and
then at last found words for his wrath, and bitter reproaches and taunts
without end and savage curses in the broad-spoken Roman tongue. And
William of Nogaret began to speak, too, and threatened to take Boniface
to Lyons where a council of the Church should depose him and condemn him
to ignominy. Boniface answered that he should expect nothing better than
to be deposed and condemned by a man whose father and mother had been
publicly burned for their crimes. And this