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Updated: September 19, 2025
"What I have done to no other woman yet," I answered, a certain gloom creeping over the exultation that still thrilled me. "O Giuliana, what have you done to me? You have bewitched me; You have made me mad!"
Fifanti rose and set a chair for him, smiling a crooked smile that held more hostility than welcome. None the less did his excellency pay Madonna Giuliana a thousand compliments as he took his seat, supremely calm and easy in his manner. I watched him closely, and I watched Giuliana, a queer fresh uneasiness pervading me.
Then, in an instant, the passage was flooded with light, and in the open doorway Giuliana stood all white before me, her arms held out. From the distance, drawing rapidly nearer and ringing sharply in the stillness of the night, came the clatter of a mule's hooves.
Our destination was the castle; and in a splendid ante-chamber, packed with rustling, silken courtiers and clanking captains in steel, a sprinkling of prelates and handsome, insolent-eyed women, more than one of whom reminded me of Giuliana, and every one of whom I disparaged by comparing her with Bianca, Galeotto and I stood waiting.
"Since this morning, when I kissed you," I answered fiercely. She sank into a chair beyond the table and stretched a hand across it to me, inviting the clasp of mine. "But if this is so, why leave us?" "Because I am afraid," I answered. "Because... O God! Giuliana, do you not see?" And I sank my head into my hands. Steps shuffled along the corridor. I looked up sharply.
Look in it, Messer Fifanti, if you would see innocence and purity and chastity! Look in it!" "Very well," said he. "Let us look in it." And quite suddenly he pulled the door open to disclose Giuliana standing there, erect but in a listening attitude. "Look in it!" he mocked me, and waved one of his bony hands towards that perfect countenance.
Meanwhile, Giuliana poured wine for the officer, and Busio bore him the cup upon a salver. Fifanti ripped away silk and seals, and set himself to read. I can see him now, standing near the window to which he had moved to gain a better light, the parchment under his very nose, his short-sighted eyes screwed up as he acquainted himself with the letter's contents.
My cousin watched Gambara's every look whenever the latter turned to speak to Giuliana; the Cardinal-legate did the like by him; and Messer Fifanti watched them both. And, meantime, Giuliana sat there, listening now to one, now to the other, her lazy smile parting those scarlet lips those lips that I had kissed that morning I, whom no one thought of watching!
Yet I blushed for him, and for his foul and unworthy suspicions. As soon would I have suspected the painted Madonna from the brush of Raffaele Santi that I had seen over the high altar of the Church of San Sisto, as suspect the beautiful and noble-souled Giuliana of giving that old pedant cause for his uneasiness.
I stood palely before her, striving to keep the loathing from my face, and I was conscious that Bianca had suddenly turned and was regarding us with eyes of grave concern. "I like you better for the change," pursued Giuliana. "And I vow that you have grown at least another inch. Have you no word for me, Agostino?" I was forced to answer her. "I trust that all is well with you, Madonna," I said.
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