ll in with a procession of Flagellants,
flogging their bare shoulders till the blood ran streaming down; but
without a sign of pain in their faces, and many of them laughing and
jesting as they lashed. The bystanders out of pity offered them wine;
they took it, but few drank it; they generally used it to free the tails
of the cat, which were hard with clotted blood, and make the next stroke
more effective. Most of them were boys, and a young woman took pity on
one fair urchin. "Alas! dear child," said she, "why wound thy white skin
so?" "Basta," said he, laughing, "'tis for your sins I do it, not for
mine."

"Hear you that?" said the friar. "Show me the whip that can whip
the vanity out of man's heart! The young monkey; how knoweth he that
stranger is a sinner more than he?"

"Father," said Gerard, "surely this is not to our Lord's mind. He was so
pitiful."

"Our Lord?" said the friar, crossing himself. "What has He to do with
this? This was a custom in Rome six hundred years before He was born.
The boys used to go through the streets, at the Lupercalia flogging
themselves. And the married women used to shove in, and try and get a
blow from the monkeys' scourges; for these blows conferred fruitfulness
in those days. A foolish trick this flagellation; but interesting to
the bystander; reminds him of the grand old heathen. We are so prone to
forget all we owe them."

Next they got into one of the seven churches, and saw the Pope give the
mass. The ceremony was imposing, but again--spoiled by the inconsistent
conduct of the cardinals and other prelates, who sat about the altar
with their hats on, chattering all through the mass like a flock of
geese.

The eucharist in both kinds was tasted by an official before the Pope
would venture on it; and this surprised Gerard beyond measure. "Who is
that base man? and what doth he there?"

"Oh, that is 'the Preguste,' and he tastes the eucharist by way of
precaution. This is the country for poison; and none fall oftener by it
than the poor Popes."

"Alas! so I have heard; but after the miraculous change of the bread
and wine to Christ His body and blood, poison cannot remain; gone is the
bread with all its properties and accidents; gone is the wine."

"So says Faith; but experience tells another tale. Scores have died in
Italy poisoned in the host."

"And I tell you, father, that were both bread and wine charged with
direst poison before his holiness had consecrated them