"He is mad."
"He does not," Basterga repeated, unmoved. "The Grand Duke is as sane as I am."
"Then what does he expect?"
But the big man laughed. "No, no, Messer Blondel," he said. "You push me too far. You mean nothing, and meaning nothing, all's said and done. I wish," he continued, rising to his feet, and reverting to the tone of sympathy which he had for the moment laid aside, "I wish I might endeavour to show you the thing as I see it, in a word, as a philosopher sees it, and as men of culture in all ages, rising above the prejudices of the vulgar, have seen it. For after all, as Persius says,
Live while thou liv'st! for death will make us all,
A name, a nothing, but an old wife's tale.
But I must not," reluctantly. "I know that."
The Syndic had lowered his hand; but he still sat with his eyes averted, gazing sullenly at the corner of the floor.
"I knew it when I came," Basterga resumed after a pause, "and therefore I was loth to speak to you."
"Yes."
"You understand, I am sure?"