stant he lost the unctuousness of the Palace Priest, and had the grand arrogance of a Wolsey, a Richelieu, or a Granvella.
He moved as though to rise from his ivory chair—as though to go into the van of combat for the Church and for the Nobles, like the warrior-bishops of the past.
"Do you think I fear the people!—a beast that crouches to the whip, and kicks the fallen, that cringes when its paunch is empty, and bullies when it is bold with a full feed! I fear the people! By the Mother of God, I would teach them such obedience that they should never breathe, but by my will!"
For the moment there flashed out the old spirit of the Colonna and the Este in the unusual outbreak of proud passion; arrogant, cruel, and iron though the words were, Giulio Villaflor, as he spoke them, was a grander and a better man, because a truer and a bolder, than in the velvet sweetness, the courtly maskings of his palatial sanctities, of his episcopal voluptuousness, of his blending of courtier, statesman, saint, and roué. He who heard, smiled that delicate smile that meant a malice and an irony so infinite, yet never betrayed this unless it were desired to be betrayed.
