“Noluit hunc coelum, noluit hunc barathrum.”

The Saint has no place for him, and the ruler of the lower regions fears the disturbance that he will make in hell.  The quarrel is cut short by the arrival of Clement himself upon the spot, who, finding no entrance into heaven, declares that he will force himself into hell:—­

  “Tartara tentemus, facilis descensus Averni.”

The fifteen years of the pontificate of Clement’s successor, Paul iii.,—­years, for the most part, of quiet and prosperity at Rome,—­afforded ample opportunities for the display of Pasquin’s spirit.  The personal character of the Pope, the exactions which he laid upon the Romans for the profit of his favorites and his family, and his unblushing nepotism were the subjects of frequent satire.  The Farnese palace, built in great part with stone taken from the Colosseum, is a standing monument of the justice of Pasquin’s rebukes, the sharpness of which is concentrated in a single telling epigram.  “Let us pray for Pope Paul,” said Pasquin, “for zeal for his house is consuming him":—­

  “Oremus pro Papa Paulo, quia zelus
  Domus suae comedit illum.”

At another time Marforio addressed a letter to Pasquin, in which he tells him of the Pope’s reply to an angel who had been sent to him with the message, “Feed my sheep” “Charity begins at home,” had been the answer of the Pope.  And when the Roman people had prayed Paul to have pity on his people, Paul had replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and give it to dogs.”

But Pasquin was now to be brought into greater notoriety than ever.  In spite of the efforts of the successors of Adrian, the Reformation had rapidly advanced, and the Reformers, scorning no weapons that might serve their cause, determined to turn the wit of Pasquin to their account.  In the year 1544, a little, but thick, volume appeared, with the title, “Pasquillorum Tomi duo.”  It bore no name of editor or printer, and professed to be published at Eleutheropolis, the City of Freedom, or, as it might be rendered in a free translation, the City of Luther.  Its 637 pages were filled with satire; it was not merely a collection of Pasquin’s sayings, but it contained epigrams and dialogues derived from other sources as well.  The book was of a kind to be popular, as well as to excite the bitterest aversion of the adherents of the Roman Church.  It long since became a volume of excessive rarity, most of the copies having been destroyed by zealous Romanists.  The famous scholar, Daniel Heinsius, within a century after its publication, believed that a copy which he purchased, at a cost of a hundred ducats, was the only one remaining in the world, and he inscribed the following lines upon one of its blank pages:—­

  “Roma meos fratres igni dedit.  Unica Phoenix
  Vivo, aureis venio centum Heinsio.”

  “Rome gave my brothers to the fire. 
  A solitary Phoenix, I survive, and at cost
  of a hundred gold pieces I come to Heinsius.”