'And everywhere prayers were offered and blessings rained on the head of the most high and magnificent prince, Girolamo Riario.'
Checco paused again. An inkling of his meaning was coming to his hearers, but they dared not think he would say what was in all their minds.
'Then,' Checco went on, 'you re-imposed the taxes which you had taken off.'
'That is a lie!' interrupted Girolamo. 'They were imposed by the council.'
Checco shrugged his shoulders, smiling ironically.
'I remember quite well. You called a meeting of the Ancients, and showing them your necessities, suggested that they should re-impose the taxes.
'I forget if you reminded them that you could command, and that you were placed here by the Vicar of Christ on earth.
'And you forebore to let us hear the ring of trumpets and the tramp of soldiery in the square. Nor did you think so numerous a suite necessary for your dignity.'
He looked round at the soldiers, thoughtfully stroking his beard.
'Proceed!' said Girolamo, impatiently; he was beginning to get angry.
Checco, in talking, had recovered the assurance which at first seemed to fail him. He smiled politely at the Count's command, and said,--
'You replaced the taxes which you had taken away, and thereby undid the benefit you had done. The town soon felt the effect of the change; its prosperity is already declining, and it is not doubtful that a few years more will bring it to the condition in which you found it. And who knows, perhaps its last state may be worse than its first?
'And now you propose to make the townspeople pay the duties which you have taken off the countryfolk. You have sent for me to ask my advice on the subject, and here I give it you.
'Do not put on, but take off. In the name of the people, I beseech you to do away with the taxes you imposed four years ago, and return to the happy state of the first years of your rule.'
He paused a moment, then with outstretched arm, pointing to the Count, he added solemnly, 'Or Girolamo Riario, the magnificent prince, may share the fate of the Ordelaffi, who ruled the town for two centuries and now wander homeless about the land.'
There was a cry all round the room. They were astounded at his audacity. Girolamo had started in his chair--his eyes were staring, his face red; he was dumb with rage. He tried to speak, but the words died in his throat, and nothing was heard but an inarticulate murmur. The soldiers and courtiers were looking at one another in surprise; they did not know what to do or think; they looked at their master, but found no help in him. The citizens were bewildered, and by turns felt wonder, dismay, fear, pleasure; they could not understand....