name--which most afterward repudiated--of the Archbishop
of Bari, a man of repute for theologic and legal erudition, an Italian,
but a subject of the Queen of Naples, who was also Countess of Provence.
They came to the nomination. The Cardinal of Florence proposed the
Cardinal of St. Peter's. The Cardinal of Limoges arose: "The Cardinal of
St. Peter's is too old. The Cardinal of Florence is of a city at war
with the holy see. I reject the Cardinal of Milan as the subject of the
Visconti, the most deadly enemy of the Church. The Cardinal Orsini is
too young, and we must not yield to the clamor of the Romans. I vote for
Bartholomew Prignani, Archbishop of Bari." All was acclamation; Orsini
alone stood out; he aspired to be the pope of the Romans.

But it was too late; the mob was thundering at the gates, menacing death
to the cardinals, if they had not immediately a Roman pontiff. The
feeble defences sounded as if they were shattering down; the tramp of
the populace was almost heard within the hall. They forced or persuaded
the aged Cardinal of St. Peter's to make a desperate effort to save
their lives. He appeared at the window, hastily attired in what either
was or seemed to be the papal stole and mitre. There was a jubilant and
triumphant cry: "We have a Roman pope, the Cardinal of St. Peter's. Long
live Rome! Long live St. Peter!" The populace became even more frantic
with joy than before with wrath. One band hastened to the Cardinal's
palace, and, according to the strange usage, broke in, threw the
furniture into the streets, and sacked it from top to bottom. Those
around the hall of conclave, aided by the connivance of some of the
cardinals' servants within, or by more violent efforts of their own,
burst in in all quarters. The supposed pope was surrounded by eager
adorers; they were at his feet; they pressed his swollen, gouty hands
till he shrieked from pain, and began to protest, in the strongest
language, that he was not the pope.

The indignation of the populace at this disappointment was aggravated by
an unlucky confusion of names. The Archbishop was mistaken for John of
Bari, of the bedchamber of the late pope, a man of harsh manners and
dissolute life, an object of general hatred. Five of the cardinals,
Robert of Geneva, Acquasparta, Viviers, Poitou, and De Verny, were
seized in their attempt to steal away, and driven back, amid
contemptuous hootings, by personal violence. Night came on again; the
populace,