LORENZO, the elder de' Medici (as it behoves you to know,) was, (if ever there was in this world) a man, not only endowed with all manner of virtue and excellence, but a lover and rewarder of virtue in others and that in the highest degree imaginable. In his days there dwelt at Florence a certain physician, by name Master Manente della Piève, who practised both physic and surgery, but was more of a practitioner than a man of science; one, in truth, of much humour and pleasantry, but so impertinent and assuming, that there was no bearing him. Amongst his other qualifications, he was a great lover of the bottle, a hard drinker, and one who made it his boast that he was a consummate judge of good wine; and frequently, without being invited, would he go of his own accord to dine or sup with the Magnifico, who at length conceived such a dislike of him by reason of his perpetual intrusiveness and impertinence, that he could not endure his sight, and deliberated within himself in what manner he might play such a trick upon him as might effectually prevent him from repeating his usual annoyances. It happened that, one afternoon among others, the aforesaid Master Manente, having been drinking at the tavern, called Delle Bertucce, (which was his favourite haunt,) had made himself so intoxicated, that he could scarcely stand; and mine host, when it came to shutting-up time, caused him to be carried on boys' shoulders out into the street, and laid along on one of the benches in St. Martin's market-place, where he fell so sound asleep that a discharge of cannon would not have awakened him. By some chance Lorenzo was made acquainted with this accident, and, thinking it a most favourable opportunity for the accomplishment of his project, he pretended to pay no attention to the person who was his informant, but feigning a desire to go to sleep, (it being already far advanced towards midnight, and he at all times a little sleeper, making it his constant habit to stay up till about that hour,) caused two of his most faithful grooms to be

sent for to his chamber, and gave them instructions how they were to proceed; who, accordingly, well booded and disguised, sallied forth from the palace, and went, (by Lorenzo's commission) to the place of St. Martin, where they found the sleeper still snoring most musically, whom they first placed on his legs, then muffled him, and, laying him like a wallet across their shoulders, took him away with them.

The poor physician, finding himself thus treated, full surely imagined that he was in the hands of some of his own companions, and so quietly suffered himself to be ushered, by a back door of the palace of the Medici, into the presence of the Magnifico, who was alone, waiting with incredible impatience the return of his messengers, and who now directed them to carry their load into a remote upper apartment, where, having deposited him on a feather-bed, they stripped him to his shirt, (he knowing no more of the matter than if he had been a dead man,) and, taking away with them all his habiliments, left him securely locked up in his new lodgings.

Lorenzo's next concern was to send for the buffoon Monaco-a personage remarkably well skilled in counterfeiting voices-whom, having first made him exchange his own clothes for those of the physician, and given him the necessary directions, he despatched, just as the bells were ringing for matins, to Master Manente's house in the street de Fossi. It was in the month of September, and the physician's family (consisting of a wife, an infant son, and a servant-maid,) were residing at his country-house in the Mugello, while he himself remained at Florence, but was never to be found at home except at night when he returned to sleep, making it his constant practice to dine either at a tavern, with his boon companions, or else at his friends' houses; insomuch that Monaco, having found the house key in the owner's pocket, easily let himself in, and, in great glee at the thought of at once hoaxing the doctor, and gratifying the humour of

ter Manente's bed, and went to sleep. It was nine o'clock before he woke, and then, having dressed himself again in Manente's clothes, and assuming the master's voice, he called out of the window of the court-yard to a female neighbour who dwelt opposite, saying that he felt himself very unwell, with a pain in his throat, which he had accordingly wrapped in a woollen handkerchief.

Now there was at this time great fear of the plague at Florence, where some symptoms had already discovered themselves; so that the good woman, dreading what might follow, asked him in great trepidation, what he might please to want of her? To whom he answered, that he begged for a couple of new-laid eggs, and a little fire; and then, pretending that he was too ill to support himself, withdrew from the window. The good woman made haste to provide what he wanted, and called to him as loudly as she was able, to tell him that she had placed the articles at the door of his house, and that he must come and fetch them-the which he did accordingly-at the same time exhibiting to the bystanders the appearance of a person scarcely able to totter along through exhaustion, with his mouth and throat muffled up, and altogether so pitiable an object, that all who beheld him were forced to believe that he was in the worst stage of the

dreaded disorder.

The rumour soon spread through the city; and a brother of Master Manente's wife, (a goldsmith by trade by name Niccolajo,) came running forthwith to know how the matter real ly stood. He knocked, and knocked again, without receiving an answer, but was assured by all the neighbours, that the poor doctor's was, without doubt, a lost case. Just at this moment Lorenzo rode by the spot on horseback, (as if by accident,) attended by a numerous troop of gentlemen, and, observing the crowd collected round the door, asked what it meant. The goldsmith replied, that he was fearful his brother-inlaw, Master Manente, was attacked by the plague, and related all he had heard on the subject. Upon this, the Magni

some fit attendant should be sought for to have charge of the sick man, and told Niccolajo where he might find such a person, in the hospital of St. Maria Nuova. To the hospital Niccolajo accordingly went, and found the person in question, who had already been instructed as to the part he had to perform; and who, having undertaken the office, entered the house forthwith, (by the aid of a locksmith,) and shortly afterwards opened one of the windows, and called out to inform the bystanders, that Master Manente had, in good sooth, a plague-boil on bis throat as big as a peach, and was already lying at death's door. Upon hearing this, Lorenzo gave orders that the attendant should be supplied through the window, with food and all other necessaries, and then departed, with great show of grief and affliction; while the attendant, having received the supply of provisions, closed the window again, and, in company with the pretended dying man, made good cheer on the victuals which were sent him, to which they added a flask or two of the choicest wine which the doctor had in his cellar.

While these things were going on, the poor abused doctor, having slept away a whole day and night, at length awoke, and finding himself in bed, and in the dark, could not imagine what place he had come to, but, calling to mind what had passed before he lost his powers of recollection, persuaded himself that, having been drinking with his friends at the Bertucce, and become intoxicated, they had carried him back to his own house, as had not unfrequently before happened to him. He therefore got out of bed under this impression, and groped his way to where he expected to have found the window, where finding none, he was in utter amazement; and, after some vain efforts to enlighten himself, not having been able to ascertain the place of either door or window in the apartment, he finished by returning to bed again, where he lay in stupid wonder, and, although half famished, afraid to call out, not knowing what mischief might follow.

the hospital servant in the first place, going again to the window, and declaring, in dolorous accents, that the disease had taken a new turn, and the plague-boil so much increased, that poor Manente was almost choked by it, and very unable either to eat or speak. Upon this, the goldsmith, Niccolajo, became very anxious that he should have somebody sent to him, to make his last will and testament; but he was answered that the thing was impossible for that night, but he might return the next morning, when measures might be taken for accomplishing it; and also for confessing the patient, and administering to him the sacrament. With this the goldsmith was obliged for the present to rest satisfied, and when the crowd had dispersed, the Magnifico's two grooms, who had been sent to disinter the body of the unfortunate Franciosino, brought it secretly to the doctor's house, where Monaco and his attendant as secretly received it; and, having so done, wrapped it carefully in a new linen shroud, bound its throat with bandages, which they had previously dipped in plague-ointment, belaboured the face with thumps and blows, so as to make it look swollen and fivid, and laid it out on a table in the basement story, with a bonnet on its head, which was well known to be one usually worn by the doctor on solemn occasions, and strewn with orange-flowers, and then went to bed, after again drinking and laughing together heartily.

It was no sooner morning, than the attendant once more opened the casement, and, with abundance of tears, proclaimed to the neighbours and passengers, how Master Manente had, just at the turn of day-break, departed from this present life; so that, in an hour's time, the news had spread throughout Florence, and the brotherin-law hearing it, ran to the spot, and was acquainted by the attendant with the pretended particulars. Seeing that there was now no remedy, the next step was to take instant measures for his interment; and, for this purpose, the goldsmith first gave the requisite information to the board of of health, by whom the funeral was di

rected to take place with every proper precaution. Those to whom the charge of removing the corpse was committed, could not help remarking the great alteration of feature. This, however, was attributed entirely to the disorder of which he died, and not a doubt occurred to any of them, or to any of a numerous crowd of bystanders, who looked on at a respectful distance, smelling at sweet herbs and vinegar, while the body was tumbled into the first vault which they found open, head foremost. Nor is it to be doubted, that Master Manente's fur bonnet, which was well known to everybody present, greatly helped the illusion. The fune ral being over, the goldsmith, Niccolajo, took upon himself the farther duty of acquainting his sister with the mournful event, which he did in the most soothing terms imaginable, recommending to her to remain with her young son in the country, and leave it to himself to settle the affairs of the deceased in Florence; which was arranged accordingly.

Five or six days had now passed away, during which they never failed to provide the physician with a plentiful meal every morning and evening, served up by the same men in hoods and masks, as on the first day of his imprisonment. At last, one morning, four hours before day-break, these same obsequious valets, dressed as before, opened the door of his apartment, by command of the Magnifico, and made the poor doctor get up, and slip on an under-garment of red suguartone, with a pair of long mariners' boots of the same materials, and a hat à la Grecque on his head. They then muffled him in a cloak, so that he was not able to see, led him out of his chamber, and conducted him into the court-yard, trembling all over from fright, as if he had had the quartan ague. There they lifted him from the ground, placed him in a covered litter drawn by two mules, and set forward on their journey by the gate of La Croce, the same two grooms leading the way on horseback, in their ordinary habits. Master Manente, as soon as he felt the motion of the carriage, was seized with new wonder and consternation. The voices of the coun

try people, and noise of animals which they heard, as day advanced upon them, convinced him that it was not a dream. He bethought himself, how ever, of all things that appeared most favourable in the singular circumstances of his present condition, and allowed himself to be comforted. Meanwhile, not a word was uttered by either of his conductors, loud enough for him to hear. They stopped in the course of the day to take refreshments, and at last, about midnight, arrived at the Her mitage of Camaldoli, where they were gladly received and welcomed by the Father Guardian, and conducted by him, through his own cell, to an antichamber adjoining, and thence to a sort of study, which again opened into a little parlour, the window of which had been walled up, and which was furnished with a small truckle-bed, a desk, and a table. This last mentioned chamber was situate on the brink of a most deep and solitary precipice, inaccessible from without to both man aud beast, far remote withal from any inhabited part of the convent, and where not a sound was ever heard, except of wind and thunder, and now and then of a distant bell tolling for Ave-Mary, and mass, or calling the brethren together to their meals. This place was judged by the two conductors exactly suited to their purpose. So they went back to the court-yard where they had left their unfortunate victim still locked up in the litter, from which they drew him forth, half dead with hunger and thirst, no less than with terror, and conveyed him, with scarce a sign of knowledge or understanding, to the habitation assigned him. They then once more accoutred themselves in their former habiliments, with the drawn sword and torch and grinning masks, which were now so familiar to their captive, that he felt as much joy at the sight of them as of some longlost friend and acquaintance, more especially as they brought with them the welcome addition of a good supper to stay the cravings of his stomach, upon which he fell to like a cormorant.

We shall here take the liberty of shortening some of the details of this memorable history. The two grooms,

having delivered themselves of their charge, left him, (with directions to two lay brothers of the monastery to serve him in the same manner as they themselves had been accustomed to do,) and returned to gratify Lorenzo with a report of their proceedings. It so happened that, shortly afterwards,__the Magnifico had occasion to leave Florence on affairs of state, which occupied all his thoughts and attention during an absence of several months, and caused him utterly to forget the poor doctor; and the Guardian and the monks of Camaldoli having, in all this time, received no counter-instructions, went on, from day to day, treating their prisoner precisely according to what was first enjoined them; while he, having learned to consider his captivity as quite hopeless, had gradually become in a manner reconciled to his fate, placing all his happiness in eating and drinking, (the materials for which were abundantly supplied to him,) and consuming in sleep almost all the hours which were not devoted to those noble purposes of existence. Meanwhile, certain domestic events occurred, which (we will charitably suppose) had not been at all in the contemplation of the Magnifico when he projected this memorable mystification. The supposed widow, after mourning for six months with the most exemplary patience, was, at the end of that period, persuaded to bestow her hand, together with the possessions she had derived from her late husband, upon a friend of her brother, by name Michael Angelo, who was also a goldsmith, with whom she now resided at Florence, in Master Manente's house, in all joy and festivity, and was reported to be already in a fair way of increasing the family establishment.

Things were in this state, when Lorenzo, on his return to Florence, meeting accidentally a monk of Camaldoli, who had journeyed thither after certain purposes relating to his convent, was suddenly reminded by the sight of him of Master Manente, whom he had so long forgotten, and commissioned him accordingly to carry back with him a letter which he wrote to the Guardian, containing instructions how he was to