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Updated: May 18, 2025
His parted lips were faintly purple, and his hollow eyes stared wide open at his wife's face, while the curled wig was thrust far back upon his bald and wrinkled forehead. Corona supported his weight upon one knee, and took his nerveless hand in hers. An agony of terror seized her. "Onofrio!" she cried she rarely called him by his name "Onofrio! speak to me! My husband!"
While it was in progress all the young artists came to Sant' Onofrio to study it, as they and its creator had before flocked to the Carmine, where Masaccio's frescoes had for three-quarters of a century been object-lessons to students.
Having returned, then, to Bologna, he made a portrait, among others, of Messer Onofrio Bartolini, a Florentine, who was then in that city for his studies, and afterwards became Archbishop of Pisa; and that head, which is now in the possession of the heirs of that Messer Noferi, is very beautiful and in a manner full of grace.
Well, Dario would be a rich man had it not been for that extraordinary affair of the Villa Montefiori. You have heard of it, no doubt; how Prince Onofrio, Dario's father, speculated, sold the villa grounds for ten millions, then bought them back and built on them, and how, at last, not only the ten millions were lost, but also all that remained of the once colossal fortune of the Boccaneras.
The official epitomizer of the history of the Popes, Onofrio Panvinio, mentions three cardinals, Orsini, Ferrerio and Michiel, whom Alexander caused to be poisoned, and hints at a fourth, Giovanni Borgia, whom Cesare took into his own charge though probably wealthy prelates seldom died in Rome at that time without giving rise to suspicions of this sort.
When Prince Onofrio an amiable man of forty, very popular in Rome, where he spent his modest fortune as his heart listed espoused La Montefiori's daughter, the little Marchesa Flavia, whose superb beauty, suggestive of a youthful Juno, had maddened him, he went to reside at the Villa Montefiori, the only property, indeed the only belonging, that remained to the two ladies.
They came, to be sure, with shouts of Vive le Roi! but, as a matter of fact, they seemed willing to make any accommodation for the sake of being permitted to remain. "Better any fate at home than to live like wild beasts with the recollection that we had once been men." To make a long story short, Onofrio again endeavoured to rouse the bishop to a sense of his duty.
Her friend, her companion, her husband had he heard her answer, that she forgave him freely? He could not be dead it was impossible. A moment ago he had been speaking to her. She went forward again and kneeled beside him. "Onofrio," she said very gently, "you are not dead you heard me?" She gazed down for a moment at the motionless features.
Feeling that his end was nigh, he begged to be removed to the convent of St. Onofrio, where he was carried off by fever on the very day appointed for his coronation.
And in the glory of the sun the wretchedness and dirt vanished, the crooked, jumbled houses seemed to be of gold, draped with the purple of the red petticoats and the dazzling white of the shifts which hung drying from their windows; while higher still, above the district, the Janiculum rose into all the luminary's dazzlement, uprearing the slender profile of Sant' Onofrio amidst cypresses and pines.
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