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Updated: June 16, 2025
"A health to all, my friends;" continued Bruttini; "a health to the Barons, Rome's old friends; to Pandulfo di Guido, the Senator's new colleague, and to Fra Moreale, Rome's new Podesta." "The bell has ceased," said Vivaldi, putting down his goblet. "Heaven have mercy on the robber!" added Bruttini.
"Why, let me think on't; oh, speaking of the necessity of supporting a new state by force, I said that if I " "Ah, that was it!" quoth Bruttini, thumping the table. Not a Roman citizen should contribute a 'danaro' to the cost." "Viva Fra Moreale!" cried Bruttini; and the shout was echoed by all the boon companions. "Enough for me," continued Montreal, "to expiate my offences.
"Why, la you there, you live so shut up, that you know and hear nothing, or you would have learned that even that fiercest of all the robbers, Fra Moreale, has at length yielded to the Tribune, and fled from his castle, like a rat from a falling house." "How, how!" cried the dame; "what say you?
It was but as yesterday that one of the Colonna, who was Senator, received a colleague in Bertoldo Orsini." "A most wise precaution," cried Vivaldi. "And where a colleague like Pandulfo di Guido?" "Viva Pandulfo di Guido!" cried the guests, and again their goblets were drained to the bottom. "And if fair words fail?" said Vivaldi. "Viva Fra Moreale!" cried Bruttini and Vivaldi, simultaneously.
"Does his Holiness," cried the Cardinal, anxiously, "speak of Fra Moreale, the Knight of St. John?" "Of no less a warrior," returned the Pontiff. "I dread the vast ambition of that wild adventurer." "Your Holiness hath cause," said the Cardinal, drily. "Some letters of his have fallen into the hands of the servants of the Church; they are here: read them, my son."
"I humbly crave your pardon, Signor," said the Free Companion; "but really so attractive is the life led by Free Lances, under Fra Moreale, that sometimes we forget the ; but pardon me we will on." A few moments more, and bounding over a narrow circumvallation, the party found themselves in a quarter, animated indeed, but of a wholly different character of animation.
"There are few masters of the martial art who equal Fra Moreale," said he; "and savage, reckless, and gathered from all parts and all countries from cavern and from marketplace, from prison and from palace, as are his troops, he has reduced them already into a discipline which might shame even the soldiery of the Empire."
More vindictive even than grateful, he bore, too, a secret grudge against Montreal's brothers, whose rough address had often wounded his pride; and, above all, his early recollections of the fear and execration in which Ursula seemed ever to hold the terrible Fra Moreale, impressed him with a vague belief of some ancient wrong to himself or his race, perpetrated by the Provencal, which he was not ill-pleased to have the occasion to avenge.
Has this plebeian, whom you call the Tribune has he boldly thrown the gage to that dread warrior? and has Montreal left the Roman territory?" "Ay, it is the talk of the town. But Fra Moreale seems as much a bugbear to you as to e'er a mother in Rome. Did he ever wrong you, dame?" "Yes!" exclaimed the old woman, with so abrupt a fierceness, that even that hardy boy was startled.
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