inal, as prime minister, assumed
the reins of government in Rome. The Duke of Palliano disposed of the
Papal soldiery. The Marquis of Montebello, commanding the guard of the
palace, excluded or admitted persons at his pleasure. Surrounded by
these nephews, Paul saw only with their eyes, heard only what they
whispered to him, and unwittingly lent his authority to their
lawlessness. They exercised an unlimited tyranny in Rome, laying hands
on property and abusing their position to gratify their lusts. No woman
who had the misfortune to please them was safe; and the cells of
convents were as little respected as the palaces of gentlefolk. To
arrive at justice was impossible; for the three brothers commanded all
avenues, civil, ecclesiastical, and military, by which the Pope could be
approached.

Violante, Duchess of Palliano, was a young woman distinguished for her
beauty no less than for her Spanish pride. She had received a thoroughly
Italian education; could recite the sonnets of Petrarch and the stanzas
of Ariosto by heart, and repeated the tales of Ser Giovanni and other
novelists with an originality that lent new charm to their style.[208]
Her court was a splendid one, frequented by noble youths and gentlewomen
of the best blood in Naples. Two of these require particular notice:
Diana Brancaccio, a relative of the Marchioness of Montebello; and
Marcello Capecce, a young man of exceptional beauty. Diana was a woman
of thirty years, hot-tempered, tawny-haired, devotedly in love with
Domiziano Fornari, a squire of the Marchese di Montebello's household.
Marcello had conceived one of those bizarre passions for the Duchess, in
which an almost religious adoration was mingled with audacity,
persistence, and aptitude for any crime. The character of his mistress
gave him but little hope. Though profoundly wounded by her husband's
infidelities, insulted in her pride by the presence of his wanton
favorites under her own roof, and assailed by the importunities of the
most brilliant profligates in Rome, she held a haughty course, above
suspicion, free from taint or stain, Marcello could do nothing but sigh
at a distance and watch his opportunity.

[Footnote 207: 'La Duchesse de Palliano,' in _Chroniques et Nouvelles_,
De Stendhal (Henri Beyle).]

[Footnote 208: This touch shows what were then considered the
accomplishments of a noble woman.]

At this point, the narrator seems to sacrifice historical accuracy for
the sake of c