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with Fratricide riding beside him and his mantle stained with the blood of Perotto ; Pietro Riario , the young Cardinal Archbishop of Florence , child and minion of Sixtus IV . , whose beauty was equalled only by his debauchery , and who received Leonora of Aragon in a pavilion of white and crimson silk , filled with nymphs and centaurs , and gilded a boy that he might serve at the feast as Ganymede or Hylas ; Ezzelin , whose melancholy could be cured only by the spectacle of death , and who had a passion for red blood , as other men have for red wine — the son of the Fiend , as was reported , and one who had cheated his father at dice when gambling with him for his own soul ; Giambattista Cibo , who in mockery took the name of Innocent and into whose torpid veins the blood of three lads was infused by a Jewish doctor ; Sigismondo Malatesta , the lover of Isotta and the lord of Rimini , whose effigy was burned at Rome as the enemy of God and man , who strangled Polyssena with a napkin , and gave poison to Ginevra d’Este in a cup of emerald , and in honour of a shameful passion built a pagan church for Christian worship ; Charles VI . , who had so wildly adored his brother’s wife that a leper had warned him of the insanity that was coming on him , and who , when his brain had sickened and grown strange , could only be soothed by Saracen cards painted with the images of love and death and madness ; and , in his trimmed jerkin and jewelled cap and acanthuslike curls , Grifonetto Baglioni , who slew Astorre with his bride , and Simonetto with his page , and whose comeliness was such that , as he lay dying in the yellow piazza of Perugia , those who had hated him could not choose but weep , and Atalanta , who had cursed him , blessed him . There was a horrible fascination in them all . He saw them at night , and they troubled his imagination in the day . The Renaissance knew of strange manners of poisoning — poisoning by a helmet and a lighted torch , by an embroidered glove and a jewelled fan , by a gilded pomander and by an amber chain . Dorian Gray had been poisoned by a book . There were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realize his conception of the beautiful . CHAPTER XII . It was on the ninth of November , the eve of his own thirty - eighth birthday , as he often remembered afterwards . He was walking home about eleven o’clock from Lord Henry’s , where he had been dining , and was wrapped in heavy furs , as the night was cold and foggy . At the corner of Grosvenor Square and South Audley Street , a man passed him in the mist , walking very fast and with the collar of his grey ulster turned up . He had a bag in his hand . Dorian recognized him . It was Basil Hallward . A strange sense of fear , for which he could not account , came over him . He made no sign of recognition and went on quickly in the direction of his own house .
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