the inmates were quite alone. On the chairs were laid elegant costumes
of paillasse, in blue and white satin.
"As you left the choice of your costumes to me," said the count to the two friends, "I have had these brought, as they will be the most worn this year; and they are most suitable on account of the confetti, as they do not show the flour."
Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly, and he perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention; for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the Piazza del Popolo presented, and by the terrible instrument that was in its center.
It was the first time Franz had ever seen a guillotine, we say guillo tine, because the Roman mandam is formed on almost the same model as the French instrument; the knife, which is shaped like a crescent, that cuts with the convex side, falls from a less height, and that is all the difference.
Two men, seated on the movable plank on which the culprit is laid, were eating their breakfasts, whilst waiting for the criminal. Their repast consisted, apparently, of bread and sausages. One of them lifted the plank, took from under it a flask of wine, drank some and then passed it to his companion. These two men were the executioner's assistants.
At this sight Franz felt the perspiration start forth upon his brow.
The prisoners, transported the previous evening from the Careen Nuovi to the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo, had passed the night, each accompanied by two priests, in a chapel closed by a grating, before which were two sentinels, relieved at intervals. A double line of carbineers, placed on each side of the door of the church, reached to the scaffold, and formed a circle round it, leaving a path about ten feet wide, and around the guillotine a space of nearly a hundred feet.
All the rest of the place was paved with heads. Many women held their infants on their shoulders, and thus the children had the best view. The Moute Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators; the balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Strada del Babuino and the di Eipetta were crammed; the steps even seemed a party-colored sea, that was impelled towards the portico; every niche in the wall held its living statue. What the count said was true the most curious spectacle in life is that of death.
And yet, instead of the silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion, a noise of laughter and jest arose from the crowd; it was evident that this execution was, in the eyes of the people, only the commencement of the Carnival.
