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Charles III de Gonzagne, petit-fils de Charles II," had sold the duchy of Nevers and his other domains in France to Cardinal Mazarin "par acte du Jul. 11, 1659." So far so good. The cardinal had left the duchy by will to Philippe Jules François Mancini, his nephew, who had died May 8, 1707. Ah! Julius Francis! It was like meeting an old friend. Philippe Jules François Mancini.
Ant. Fran. And so, Mistress, come your ways to your Chamber. Jul. Cla. Ah, Antonio, I find by that sad look of yours, you have over-heard our hasty Doom. Ant.
These notes were in Latin, much abbreviated, and had evidently been made in great haste. The MS. was only deciphered with difficulty, and some words have up to the present time evaded all the efforts of the expert employed. The date, "XXV Jul. 1888," is written on the right-hand corner of the MS. The following is a translation of Dr.
Hang't, why should we young Women pine and languish for what our own natural Invention may procure us; let us three lay our Heads together, and if Machiavel with all his Politicks can out-wit us, 'tis pity but we all lead Apes in Hell, and die without the Jewish Blessing of Consolation. Jul. No more, here comes the Dragon. Enter Francisco. Fran. So, together consulting and contriving. Jac.
'Tis pity she that thinks it so shou'd want him; the Blessing's thrown away on me, but we are both unhappy to be match'd to those we cannot love. Carlos, though young, gay, handsom, witty, rich, I hate as much as you the old Francisco; for since I cannot marry my Antonio, both Youth and Beauty are but lost on me, and Age decrepid would be equal torment. Jul.
Or, if he be not, he's old, and past service, we'll kill the Christian Dog out of the way. Fran. Oh, hold, hold, I'm no Christian, Gentlemen; but as errant a Heathen as your selves. Guz. Bind him strait, neck and heels, and clap him under hatches. Jul. Oh, spare him, Sir, look on his Reverend Age. Guz. Fran. Hah, my Wife! My Wife ravish'd oh, I'm dead. Jul.
The man was Gunnar, successor to Jul, and Chief of the Neeblings! Going to the pool, Gunnar began to wash his bleeding arms. "Yes, Old Gunnar knew you would be here, Jack Odin, for it was writ in runes of silver long ago that a man will go to the gates of death and brave Old Nidhug the dragon there to find his maid." "And how is she, Gunnar? Where is she?"
I'll warrant you I'll banter him till you have cuckolded him, if you manage matters as well as I. Fran. My Lord, I ask your pardon for my rudeness in not knowing you before, which I ought to have done in good manners I confess; who the Devil does he stare at so? Guil. Prithee, old Fellow, Peace, I am in love. Fran. Car. Dear Julia, let's retire, our time's but short. Jul.
Why so then, is the Devil in an unmerciful Woman? Come, come, 'tis a good Tenant that pays once a quarter. Jac. Of an hour do you mean, Sir? Fran. Peace, I say thou damnable Tormentor, this is the Doctrine you preach to your Mistress, but you shall do't it private, for I'm resolv'd to lock ye both up, and carry the Keys in my Pocket. Jul.
His ashes were carried by Trelawny to Rome and buried in the Protestant cemetery, so touchingly described by him in his letter to Peacock, and afterwards so sublimely in "Adonais". The epitaph, composed by Hunt, ran thus: "Percy Bysshe Shelley, Cor Cordium, Natus iv. August MDCCXCII. Obiit VIII Jul.
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