ouble, as it did when Gregory the Fifth, driven out by
Crescentius, and taking refuge in Pavia, found himself, the Pope of
Rome, confronted with Arnulf, the 'Pope' of Milan, and complained of his
position to the council he had summoned.

The making and unmaking of Popes, and the election of successors to
those that died, brings up memories of what Rome was during the vacancy
of the See, and of the general delight at the death of any reigning
Pontiff, good or bad. A certain monk is reported to have answered Paul
the Third, that the finest festival in Rome took place while one Pope
lay dead and another was being elected. During that period, not always
brief, law and order were suspended. According to the testimony of
Dionigi Atanagi, quoted by Baracconi, the first thing that happened was
that the prisons were broken open and all condemned persons set free,
while all men in authority hid themselves in their homes, and the
officers of justice fled in terror from the dangerous humour of the
people. For every man who could lay hands on a weapon seized it, and
carried it about with him. It was the time for settling private quarrels
of long standing, in short and decisive fights, without fear of
disturbance or interference from the frightened Bargello and the
terrorized watchmen of the city. And as soon as the accumulated private
spite of years had spent itself in a certain amount of free fighting,
the city became perfectly safe again, and gave itself up to laying
wagers on the election of the next Pope. The betting was high, and there
were regular bookmakers, especially in all the Regions from Saint
Eustace to the Ponte Sant' Angelo, where the banks had established
themselves under the protection of the Pope and the Guelph Orsini, and
where the most reliable and latest news was sure to be obtained fresh
from the Vatican. Instead of the Piazza di Spagna and the Villa Medici,
the narrow streets and gloomy squares of Ponte, Parione and Sant'
Eustachio became the gathering-place of society, high, low and
indiscriminate; and far from exhibiting the slightest signs of mourning
for its late ruler, the city gave itself up to a sort of Carnival
season, all the more delightful, because it was necessarily unexpected.

Moreover, the poor people had the delight of speculating upon the wealth
of the cardinal who might be elected; for, as soon as the choice of the
Conclave was announced, and the cry, 'A pope, a pope!' rang through the
stree