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Updated: June 15, 2025
He desired no repetition of the scene which had passed, and he thought the best thing to be done was to temporise for a while. "I am glad you are willing to look into the matter," answered Don Paolo. "I am quite sure you will soon be convinced." Marzio was silent, and it was evident that the interview was at an end.
At this announcement everybody sprang up and embraced Don Paolo, and overwhelmed him with congratulations, reproaching him at the same time for having kept the news so long to himself. "Of course, I shall continue to work with the Cardinal," said the priest, when the family gave him time to speak. "But it is a great honour. I have other news for Marzio "
"Mamma sent me in to ask you about the chickens there are chickens for dinner she wanted to know whether you would like them roasted or boiled with rice." "Roasted," replied Marzio, taking up a chisel and pretending to be busy. "It is Gianbattista who likes them boiled." "Thank you, I will go home and tell her. Papa " the girl hesitated. "What is the matter?"
It was not enough, from the moral point of view, that Marzio should be made to see the impossibility of his scheme, although it was as much as could be expected.
The chiseller did not look up from his pencil. "Good-night, Marzio let it be a good piece of work," said Paolo. "Good-night," growled the artist, his eyes still fixed on the paper. His brother saluted the rest and left the room to go home to his lonely lodgings at the top of an old palace, in the first floor of which dwelt the Cardinal, whom he served as secretary.
And it has taken us two thousand years to get to the point we have reached! Two thousand years and what is it? Are we any better than slaves, except that we work better?" "I doubt whether we work better." "What is the matter with you this morning?" cried Marzio. "Have you been sneaking into some church on your way here? Pah! You smell of the sacristy! Has Paolo been here?
The evening previous, Marzio and Olympio had been admitted into the castle, where they had lain concealed all night and all day; for, as will be remembered, the assassination would have been effected the day before had it not been for the religious scruples of Signora Lucrezia Petroni.
He never comes," said the young man. "He will be afraid that I will have Lucia married before supper time. I know him and he knows me." "If he thinks that, he does not know you at all," answered Gianbattista quietly. "Indeed?" exclaimed Marzio, raising his voice to the ironical tone he usually affected when any one contradicted him. "To-day, to-morrow, or the next day, what does it matter?
Reflect a little." "I reflect yes! I reflect that you ask a great deal of money, Signer Carnesecchi," replied Marzio with some irritation. "I never heard that anybody gave money unless it was asked for." "It will not be for lack of asking if you do not get it," retorted the artist.
You may as well expect to kill a mule by kicking it as one of those animals, Burn the Vatican over their heads and think you have destroyed them like a wasps' nest, they will write you a letter from Berlin the next day saying that they are alive and well, and that Prince Bismarck protests against your proceedings." "Bravo, Sor Marzio!" cried the journalist.
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