the air seemed vibrant with it. Then said my soul, "In manus tuas,
Domine Jesu!" and I knew nothing more.

And yet again I awoke, in the level light of early evening, unspeakably
refreshed, free from bonds, and little more than stiff in the limbs. Fra
Palamone was by my side, a cup of broth in his hands. "Drink this, poor
suffering Francis," he said, as gently as a woman. "Henceforth all shall
be harmony betwixt me and thee." He put the basin to my lips and lifted
my head on his knee that I might drink more at ease. It was a strong,
invigorating stuff, with a cordial in it, I know not of what kind. Had
it been vitriol I had been too weak to refuse it. It brought my vigour
back in a tide; I sat up. Fra Palamone began to talk, with more candour
and fair reason than his late exploits warranted.

He said that a great danger, greater than my ignorance of this country
would allow me to guess, had threatened me of late, had come to his
knowledge in Florence, and had been forestalled by himself, under the
merciful guiding of Heaven, at the last moment. The Government of
Tuscany, owing to the dotage of the Grand Duke and the wicked influence
of Donna Violante over her brother-in-law, the Grand Prince Gastone, was
impotent; there was no police, but indeed a flagrant anarchy abroad,
where private malice stalked in the cloak of justice, and the passions
of evil men had scope for the utmost indulgence. Great men did as they
chose--which was to do evil; the most unnatural debauchery obtained; the
Grand Prince Gastone ran spoiling about the country, a satyr heading a
troop of satyrs. No honest person was safe from ruin. He told me that I
had been remarked in Pistoja, and my name and origin guessed at. They
knew me as consorting with profligates and criminals, and accused me of
having stolen a young girl from the Marchese Semifonte, upon whose
estate she had been born and bred. It was said that I had brought her to