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The friar's face had grown stern, but he did not resume the conversation
until the elder Giustinian had strolled away with his host. Then he
turned to Marcantonio, speaking earnestly. "Simplicity is no match for
subtlety," he said, "and much favor hath been shown to her. You will
pardon me, Signore, not because you are young and I am old, but because
the face of your lady hath moved me with a rare sense of unworldliness.
There should be no flattery in an act our Lord himself hath taught by
his example, and an old man like Pope Clement might well bestow his
blessing on your little child. But the times are not free from danger;
the home is best for the little ones--do not send him from his mother to
the schools."
"He is but learning to speak," the young man answered, smiling at the
friar's earnestness; "only his baby word for his mother's name."
"There are schools for the sons of noblemen in which he will forget it,"
said the friar bitterly; "where they teach disloyalty to princes and
unmake men to make machines--and the mainspring is at Rome.


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