"Cospetto! Signore, I have the memory of Beppo, who forgot the mother who bore him; but the name will be here, Illustrious, for certain."
"See if you can find it, Peppino," I replied, sitting down on a stone near the iron door. "I am anxious to know to whom this tomb belongs."
Peppino, being more conversant with Italian tombs than myself, went to look for the name, and in a wonderfully short space of time came back with a satisfied smile on his face.
"Signore, the tomb is that of the Morone."
"The Morone?"
"Yes, Signore, they were a great family of Verona, as great as the cursed Medici of my beautiful Florence."
"And this Count, who died last year, was their descendant?"
"Dio! Illustrious, he was the last of them. No father, no brother, no child. He was the last. Basta, basta!"
"Had he a wife?" I asked, thinking of the woman who had emerged from this tomb.
"Yes, Signore, a beautiful wife, but when he died she left Verona for Rome I heard. She is not now here."