Contrite priests suddenly bestow Holy Orders on a wretched failure who was expelled from the seminary for lack of a true vocation. He is soon in Rome with his bishop to elect a new Pope. The stymied conclave elects the dedicated new priest: Hadrian VII. The new Pope decides to sell Vatican art treasures to finance feeding the world's poor. He smokes on the throne and entertains old friends like his landlady and new ones like a seminarian who is having a hard go of it until an assassin puts an end to Hadrian VII.2 women, 26 men

We stood up, openly looking at him as though we were astounded at his audacity: for, in starting, he had knocked down the double-cross, golden, which leaned against the pedestal of the ivory faun near him, nor did he attempt to replace it. Indeed, his. eyes began to glare like those of one who unadvisedly had looked upon a cluster of hobgoblins. His knees also began to bend like those of one pressed downward by an incubus, gently, irresistible.

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

Our artificers imitate their masters, or their antecessors. It is human to evade operose labor of body or mind. Labor of mind facilitly may be evaded by imitation: for, so, sollicitude of mind conducive to invention becomes supervacuous. Hence, artificers of a negligent nature follow traditions and canons of the schools. How many have intended themselves to imitate the inaccessible Messer Alessandro Filipepi?

The silver god, and the golden goddess, before many gods and goddesses. . . . The silver god, and the golden goddess on a throne. . . . The silver god, following the star." Having said these words, which seemed to be nonsensical, he tired me. Whereat I smacked him, shaking his hand till the dark ink trickled over his thighs; and so I dismissed him to relieve Nesamun at the steering-oar.

The silver god, and the golden goddess, before many gods and goddesses. . . . The silver god, and the golden goddess on a throne. . . . The silver god, following the star." Having said these words, which seemed to be nonsensical, he tired me. Whereat I smacked him, shaking his hand till the dark ink trickled over his thighs; and so I dismissed him to relieve Nesamun at the steering-oar.

Our artificers imitate their masters, or their antecessors. It is human to evade operose labor of body or mind. Labor of mind facilitly may be evaded by imitation: for, so, sollicitude of mind conducive to invention becomes supervacuous. Hence, artificers of a negligent nature follow traditions and canons of the schools. How many have intended themselves to imitate the inaccessible Messer Alessandro Filipepi?

We stood up, openly looking at him as though we were astounded at his audacity: for, in starting, he had knocked down the double-cross, golden, which leaned against the pedestal of the ivory faun near him, nor did he attempt to replace it. Indeed, his. eyes began to glare like those of one who unadvisedly had looked upon a cluster of hobgoblins. His knees also began to bend like those of one pressed downward by an incubus, gently, irresistible.

Our artificers imitate their masters, or their antecessors. It is human to evade operose labor of body or mind. Labor of mind facilitly may be evaded by imitation: for, so, sollicitude of mind conducive to invention becomes supervacuous. Hence, artificers of a negligent nature follow traditions and canons of the schools. How many have intended themselves to imitate the inaccessible Messer Alessandro Filipepi?

"The body is that of a very handsome lad indeed, of about nineteen years of age, and most magnificently made: indeed I only know of one specimen of physique at all comparable with it in splendour of symmetry; and that is the statue of the Athlete with the Strigil, by Lysippos, in the Vatican collection. There is absolutely no trace of decay about it; and it looks as fresh and feels as soft (though of course it's cold) as the body of a young sleeper." Newly designed and typeset in a modern 6-by-9-inch format by Waking Lion Press.

The author of this unusual work was one of the most enigmatic, eccentric of English writers. He lived and died in poverty, and was as unscrupulous in grasping for money as were the Borgias he wrote about in their grasping for power. He spent his adult life eluding bill collectors and landlords, begging money from friends or strangers, composing fanatically belligerent notes to publishers demanding funds they had allegedly promised him, and extorting money from hapless benefactors whose faith in him proved most often to be unfounded. Nevertheless, he produced several books of superior quality which are sui generis in their vitality, color, and individuality. The present work is an example. It is by no means a work of objective, rigorously documented scholarship; it teems with Corvo's personal hypotheses, prejudices, and grudges. It steadfastly examines every accusation that has ever been made against the Borgias. Yet it conjures up a picture of Renaissance Italy which may not be historically accurate in every detail, but which vibrates with the spirit of the age. The book is broad in scope, relating to the movements of the Borgia Family during the whole of its career as the ruling house of Italy. In a style that is by turn lyric, dramatic, humorous, sonorous and epigrammatic, Corvo traces the lives of Alonso Borgia (who became Pope Calixtus III), Roderigo Borgia (later Pope Alexander VI), the redoubtable Cesare Borgia and his heralded sister Lucrezia, and other lesser known but equally interesting figures of the Borgia clan. The narrative is spiced with illuminating anecdotes, curious lore, and little-known sidelights in connection with the people and events of that incomparable era.Some of the most absorbing passages are those in which Corvo interrupts the narrative to reflect on such matters as calumny (all charges against the Borgias come under this heading), the loneliness of the popes, the classic learning of the Renaissance, the superiority of the 16th-century methods and mores to 20th-century ones, and many other subjects he feels constrained to remark upon. Perhaps the most engrossing chapter of all is the one which examines the matter of poisoning in the light of the superstitions that were still alive during the Borgia era.

Our artificers imitate their masters, or their antecessors. It is human to evade operose labor of body or mind. Labor of mind facilitly may be evaded by imitation: for, so, sollicitude of mind conducive to invention becomes supervacuous. Hence, artificers of a negligent nature follow traditions and canons of the schools. How many have intended themselves to imitate the inaccessible Messer Alessandro Filipepi?

The silver god, and the golden goddess, before many gods and goddesses. . . . The silver god, and the golden goddess on a throne. . . . The silver god, following the star." Having said these words, which seemed to be nonsensical, he tired me. Whereat I smacked him, shaking his hand till the dark ink trickled over his thighs; and so I dismissed him to relieve Nesamun at the steering-oar.

We stood up, openly looking at him as though we were astounded at his audacity: for, in starting, he had knocked down the double-cross, golden, which leaned against the pedestal of the ivory faun near him, nor did he attempt to replace it. Indeed, his. eyes began to glare like those of one who unadvisedly had looked upon a cluster of hobgoblins. His knees also began to bend like those of one pressed downward by an incubus, gently, irresistible.