"But look here," said Marcantonio, who affected English brusqueness, "of course we are very happy that the Holy Father should come among us: but, you know, we are bound by our own guarantees to give Him all the honours of a sovereign-regnant. We shall be shamed in the eyes of Europe if we omit those. What I mean by that is this is a state-progress; and we shall have to turn out the troops, and stop the traffic and line the streets——"
"I don't think His Holiness expects you to do all that, Prince. I'm not speaking officially; and I'm not bringing you an official request for anything of the kind which you name. The Holy Father says He is going quite simply—on foot, in fact."
"Now I should just like to know what the devil (if Your Splendour will excuse the French) that means."
"Perhaps His Holiness thinks that the movement of the sedia gestatoria, or of a litter, will make Him sick. It did with Leo, you know."
"What's the matter with a white mule?"
"I happen to know that He cannot ride."
"Peuh! No sportsman, then! And yet He's English?"
"Yes: but not the kind of sportsman you mean, Prince."
"Well: what does He want me to do?"
"Let's say that I am sent to warn you of His intention, in order that you may arrest Him for disturbing the traffic, if you choose."