Suddenly all my rage came up in me, my loneliness to have been separated from him for days on end, obeying his injunctions, and now to come home and find him staring at me wild and unconfiding. I would not tolerate his staring off, ignoring me as if I weren't there. He must admit that I was the cause of his anger. He must speak.

I wanted suddenly to cry.

His face became anguished. I couldn't watch this; I couldn't think that he felt pain as I did, as the other boys did. I was in wild revolt.

"You frighten everyone selfishly, Lord and Master!" I declared.

Without regarding me, he vanished in a great flurry, and I heard his footsteps rushing through the empty rooms.

I knew he had moved with a speed men couldn't master. I hurried after him, only to hear the bedroom doors slammed shut against me, to hear the lock slid closed before I reached out to grab the latch.

"Master, let me in," I cried. "I went only because you told me to." I turned around and around. It was quite impossible to break these doors. I pounded on them with my fists and kicked them. "Master, you sent me to the brothels. You sent me on damnable errands."

After a long time, I sat down at the foot of the door, my back against it, and wept and wailed. I made a riotous amount of noise. He waited until I stopped.

"Go to sleep, Amadeo," he said. "My rages have nothing to do with you."

Impossible. A lie! I was infuriated and insulted, and hurt and cold! This whole house was damnably cold.

"Then let your peace and calm have to do with me, Sir!" I said. "Open the damned door."

"Go to bed with the others," he said quietly. "You belong with the others, Amadeo.

They are your loved ones. They are your kind. Don't seek the company of monsters."

"Ah, is that what you are, Sir?" I asked contemptuously and crossly. "You that can paint like Bellini or Mantegna, who can read all words and speak all tongues, who has love without end and patience to match it, a monster! Is that it? A monster spreads the roof over our head and feeds us our daily supper from the kitchens of the gods! Oh, indeed, a monster."

He didn't answer.

I was further enraged. I went down to the lower floor. I took a great battle-ax from the wall. It was one of many weapons on display in the house which I'd scarcely ever noticed. Well, it was time for it, I thought. I've had enough of this coldness. I can't stand it. I can't stand it.