riously to his Eminence upon his relations with the Sovereigns of
Tuscany. He pointed out quite clearly the line of conduct Ferdinando
should pursue--the direct converse of the position he had taken up.

The Cardinal began to reflect that the death of little Prince Filippo,
and the fact that Francesco had not proclaimed Antonio his
heir-apparent, left him at all events the undoubted heir-presumptive.
Consequently, when the Florentine Mission, under Archbishop Giuseppe
Donzelle of Sorrento, returned to Rome, and the Legate conveyed to him
a cordial invitation from the Tuscan Sovereigns to visit Florence, he
accepted it with the best grace he could command--keeping, at the same
time, his true feelings and intentions to himself.

* * * * *

Pageant and dirge trip up each other often enough in the course of human
life! The lives especially of sovereigns, through the strong light ever
beating upon their thrones, are always exposed to vicissitudes of
fortune. The Papal Mission had scarcely passed out of recollection, and
everything in Florence was happy and prosperous--sunshine is always
brightest before eclipse--when the spectre of tragedy again cast its
dark shadow over the path of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess.

A right merry party was that which set off from the Palazzo Pitti to the
Villa Poggio a Caiano one bright morning in October 1587. The "hunter's
moon was up," for the harvest had been gathered in, and the new luscious
grapes were in the vat. Pheasant awaited the coming of the sportsmen in
the home-coppices, wild boar in the thickets of Monte Ginestra, and
other game was ready for the hawk-on-wrist and the dog-in-leash along
the smiling valley of the Ombrone.

Hunting and sporting parties were now quite in the Grand Duchess' way.
Unused to such exploits upon the canals and lagunes of Venice, she had,
from the moment of her elevation, sympathetically entered into the joys
of horsemanship and the pastimes of the countryside. Few could beat her
in point-to-point--she feared no obstacle, nor dreaded accident, the
charge of wild game terrified her not.

"Magnificent," she wrote, on 15th November 1586, "was the sport.... I
actually saw four very large boars fall dead at my feet." The Grand
Duke, of course, as became "a perfect gentleman," was at one with Bianca
in love for, and skill in, all exercises in the open air. His seat was
firm, his aim was good, and he revelled in the chase.