the little
one consented to kneel."

Here sobs checked the course of the narrative; and the narrator was
half ashamed at being affected by the fate of the condemned ones, just
as a young lady is ashamed when she is caught weeping at the theatre.
Pizzabrasa concluded the recital:

"The child dropped upon his knees, and raised towards heaven his
little hands that were whiter than snow, and then the executioner cut
his hair and opened his great eyes to frighten him."

"How much I would have been willing to pay to have been present,"
exclaimed one of the group; "such affecting scenes delight me."

"Then why didn't you come?" asked a neighbor.

The other replied, "What do you think? I had to take to Saint-Victor a
saddle and bridle which I had mended."

And then with that indifference such compassionate souls have for the
sorrows of others which have affected them for a moment, they turned
the conversation on a thousand unrelated topics....

On the balconies, on the platforms, and in the magistrates' halls,
conversation of another description was held. Ladies and gentlemen of
high degree discussed arms and battles, inconstant favors of the
court, passage of birds, and the scarcity of hares; they demanded and
related news; and read from the books of this one and that one.
Signora Theodora, the young wife of Francesco dei Maggi, one of the
most famous beauties, asked in the most nonchalant way as she drew on
her gloves, "Who is this one about to be executed?"

"Margherita Visconti," replied Forestino, one of the sons of the Duke,
who was playing the gallant with all the ladies present.

"Visconti!" exclaimed the young woman. "She is then a relative of
Signor Vicario?"

"Yes, a distant relative," responded the young man.

But the jester Grillincervello interposed:--"She might have been a
nearer relative, but as she refused this, you see what has happened."

"She must regret her action," said another; "she is so young and
beautiful!"

"And then she is not accustomed to dying," put in the fool, a
reflection which caused peals of laughter around him.

Then he turned towards Forestino and his brother Bruzio, around whom
all had gathered in homage: "Serene Princes, it is my opinion that if
you wish to render attentions to the lady of Signor Franciscolo del
Maggi, she will not imitate Margherita."

At this moment the clock struck again. There was sullen silence--then
a second stroke--then a third, vibrating with a