He is over-fat to run, or you had seen him at my heels, arrayed in that panoply of avenging wrath that is the cognisance of the Church Militant." "Go bring him hither," was the short answer.
"Gesu!" gasped the fool, in very real affright.

"I'll not go near him till his anger cools--not if you made me straight and bribed me with the Patrimony of St.Peter." The man turned from him impatiently, and rising his voice: "Fanfulla!" he called over his shoulder, and then, after a moment's pause, again: "Ola, Fanfulla!" "I am here, my lord," came an answering voice from behind a clump of bushes on their right, and almost immediately the very splendid youth who had gone to sleep in its shadow stood up and came round to them.
At sight of the fool he paused to take stock of him, what time the fool returned the compliment with wonder-stricken interest.

For however much Fanfulla's raiment might have suffered in yesternight's affray, it was very gorgeous still, and in the velvet cap upon his head a string of jewels was entwined.

Yet not so much by the richness of his trappings was the fool impressed, as by the fact that one so manifestly noble should address by such a title, and in a tone of so much deference, this indifferently apparelled fellow over whom he had stumbled.

Then his gaze wandered back to the man who lay supported on his elbow, and he noticed now the gold net in which his hair was coiffed, and which was by no means common to mean folk.