'My lord—spare me—'twas Caprona's widow.'
'And for what purpose?'
The fool, lost in terror, garbled his lesson.
'To destroy the Duchess, whom she hates. I know not: 'twas Messer Ludovic made himself her agent to me.'
'Ho!' cried the Duke, and the monosyllable rolled up and round under the roof, and was returned upon him. 'Here's addition, not subtraction. What more?'
Advancing, with set grinning lips, he thumbed the victim's arm, as he might be a market-wife testing a fowl.
'Plump, plump,' he said, turning his head about. 'Shall we not singe the fat capon, Messer Castellan, before trussing him for the spit?'
At a sign, the two butchers at the door advanced and seized their victim. He struggled desperately in their grasp. Shriek upon shriek issued from his lips. Galeazzo thundered down his cries:—
'Lay him out,' he roared, 'and bare his ribs.'
In a moment Tassino was stretched in the rack, an operator, head and heel, gripping at the spokes of the drums. The Duke came and stood above, contemplative again now, and ingratiatory.