her as a courtesan." But,
whatever his mode of procedure, Diana loved him, while he loved only
Violante, and he proved to be a masterful man. The duke was away in
exile on account of a disgraceful carouse which had ended in a street
fight, and Violante was spending the time, practically alone, in the
quiet little town of Gallese, which is halfway between Orvieto and Rome.
In this solitude, Violante and Marcello were finally surprised under
circumstances which made their guilt certain, and final confession was
obtained from Marcello after he had been arrested and subjected to
torture. Thereupon the duke sought him out in his prison, and stabbed
him and threw his body into the prison sewer. The pope, Paul IV., was
the duke's uncle; and upon being told what his nephew had done, he
showed no surprise, but asked significantly: "And what have they done
with the duchess?" Murder, under such circumstances, was considered
justifiable throughout all Italy--and it must be confessed that the
modern world knows something of this sentiment. On one occasion, a
Florentine court made this reply to a complaint which had been lodged
against a faithless wife: _Essendo vero quanto scriveva facesse quello
che conveniva a cavaliere di honore!_ [Things being true as he has
written them, he is allowed to do that which is befitting a gentleman of
honor!] It was not the pope alone who proposed punishment for Violante,
for the duke had a brother, Cardinal Alfonso Caraffa, who spoke of it
continually, and finally, in the month of August, in the year 1559,
Palliano sent fifty men, with Violante's brother, the Count Aliffe, at
their head, to go to her at Gallese and put her to death. A couple of
Franciscan monks gave her what little comfort there was to be extracted
from the situation, and she received the last sacrament, though stoutly
protesting her innocence the while. Then the bandage was put over her
eyes, and her brother prepared to place about her neck the cord with
which she was to be strangled; finding it too short for the purpose, he
went into another room to get one of more suitable length. Before he had
disappeared through the doorway, Violante had pulled the bandage from
her eyes, and was asking, in the most matter-of-fact way, what the
trouble was and why he did not complete his task. With great courtesy,
he informed his sister what he was about, and a moment later returned,
tranquilly readjusted bandage and cord, and then, fitting his da