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Videtur autem magis contra tyrannorum saevitiam non privata praesumptione aliquorum, sed auctoritate publica procedendum. Primo quidem, si ad ius multitudinis alicuius pertineat sibi providere de rege, non iniuste ab eadem rex institutus potest destitui vel refrenari eius potestas, si potestate regia tyrannice abutatur.

Nec putanda est talis multitudo infideliter agere tyrannum destituens, etiam si eidem in perpetuo se ante subiecerat: quia hoc ipse meruit, in multitudinis regimine se non fideliter gerens ut exigit regis officium, quod ei pactum a subditis non reservetur.

Sic Romani Tarquinium superbum, quem in regem susceperant, propter eius et filiorum tyrannidem a regno eiecerunt, substituta minori, scilicet consulari, potestate.

Sic etiam Domitianus, qui modestissimis imperatoribus Vespasiano patri et Tito fratri eius successerat, dum tyrannidem exercet, a senatu Romano interemptus est, omnibus quae perverse Romanis fecerat per senatusconsultum iuste et salubriter in irritum revocatis. Quo factum est ut beatus Ioannes Evangelista, dilectus Dei discipulus, qui per ipsum Domitianum in Patmos insulam fuerat exilio relegatus, ad Ephesum per senatusconsultum remitteretur.

It must not be thought that such a multitude is acting unfaithfully in deposing the tyrant, even though it had previously subjected itself to him in perpetuity, because he himself has deserved that the covenant with his subjects should not be kept, since, in ruling the multitude, he did not act faithfully as the office of a king demands.

Thus did the Romans, who had accepted Tarquin the Proud as their king, cast him out from the kingship on account of his tyranny and the tyranny of his sons; and they set up in their place a lesser power, namely, the consular power. Similarly Domitian, who had succeeded those most moderate emperors, Vespasian, his father, and Titus, his brother, was slain by the Roman senate when he exercised tyranny, and all his wicked deeds were justly, and profitably declared null and void by a decree of the senate.

Thus it came about that Blessed John the Evangelist, the beloved disciple of God, who had been exiled to the island of Patmos by that very Domitian, was sent back to Ephesus by a decree of the senate. Si vero ad ius alicuius superioris pertineat multitudini providere de rege, expectandum est ab eo remedium contra tyranni nequitiam.

Sic Archelai, qui in Iudaea pro Herode patre suo regnare iam coeperat, paternam malitiam imitantis, Iudaeis contra eum querimoniam ad Caesarem Augustum deferentibus, primo quidem potestas diminuitur ablato sibi regio nomine et medietate regni sui inter duos fratres suos divisa; deinde, cum nec sic a tyrannide compesceretur, a Tiberio Caesare relegatus est in exilium apud Lugdunum, Galliae civitatem.

Later, since he was not restrained from tyranny even by this means, Tiberius Caesar sent him into exile to Lugdunum, a city in Gaul. Quod si omnino contra tyrannum auxilium humanum haberi non potest, recurrendum est ad regem omnium Deum, qui est adiutor in opportunitatibus in tribulatione.

Eius enim potentiae subest ut cor tyranni crudele convertat in mansuetudinem, secundum Salomonis sententiam, Prov. Ipse enim regis Assueri crudelitatem, qui Iudaeis mortem parabat, in mansuetudinem vertit. Ipse est qui ita Nabuchodonosor crudelem regem convertit, quod factus est divinae potentiae praedicator. Nunc igitur, inquit, ego Nabuchodonosor laudo, et magnifico, et glorifico regem caeli, quia opera eius vera et viae eius iudicia, et gradientes in superbia potest humiliare.

Tyrannos vero, quos reputat conversione indignos, potest auferre de medio vel ad infimum statum reducere, secundum illud sapientis: sedes ducum superborum destruxit Deus, et sedere fecit mites pro eis. Ipse est qui videns afflictionem populi sui in Aegypto et audiens eorum clamorem, Pharaonem tyrannum deiecit cum exercitu suo in mare. I asked, stirring the foam into my coffee. Oh, I dont know I laughed. Um, shoe size ten, Breakfast at Tiffanys, absolutely no athletic ability whatsoever, and way too many embarrassing moments to list before the museum closes.

Thats it? Thats all I get? I felt my defensiveness melting away at this surprisingly charming and decidedly not-dangerous side of him. With Vincents encouragement I told him about my old life in Brooklyn, with Georgia and my parents. Of our summers in Paris, of my friends back home, with whom I had, by now, lost all contact. Of my boundless love for art, and my despair at discovering I possessed absolutely no talent for creating it.

He prodded me for more information, and I filled in the blanks for him on bands, food, film, books, and everything else under the sun. And unlike most boys my age I had known back home, he seemed genuinely interested in every detail. What I didnt tell him was that my parents were dead. I referred to them in the present tense and said that my sister and I had moved in with our grandparents to study in France. It wasnt a total lie.

But I didnt feel like telling him the whole truth. I didnt want his pity. I wanted to seem like just any other normal girl who hadnt spent the last seven months isolating herself in an inner world of grief. His rapid-fire questions made it impossible for me to ask him anything in return. So when we finally left I reproached him for it.

Okay, now I feel completely exposedyou know pretty much everything about me and I know nothing about you. Aha, that is part of my nefarious plan.

He smiled, as the museum guard locked the doors behind us. How else could I expect you to say yes to meeting up again if I laid everything out on the table the first time we talked? This isnt the first time we talked, I corrected him, trying to coolly ignore the fact that he seemed to be asking me out.

Okay, the first time we talked without my unintentionally insulting you, he revised. We walked across the museums garden toward the reflecting pools, where screaming children were celebrating the fact that it was still hot and sunny at six p. Vincent walked slightly hunched over with his hands in his pockets. For the first time I sensed in him a tiny hint of vulnerability.

I took advantage of it. I dont even know how old you are. Nineteen, he said. What do you do? Because your friend said something about your being in the police force.

I couldnt help the trace of sarcasm in my voice. My sister and I saw you rescue that girl. Vincent stared at me blankly. The girl who jumped off the Carrousel Bridge during that gang fight. Your friend escorted us away and told us it was a police procedure. Oh, he did?

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Vincent muttered, his expression assuming the hardened look itd had the first time I met him. He thrust his hands back into his pockets and continued walking. We were getting closer to the Mtro stop.

I slowed my pace to download a little more time. So what are you guys, undercover cops?

I didnt believe it for a second, but tried to sound sincere. His sudden change in mood had intrigued me. Something like that. What, kind of like a SWAT team? He didnt respond. That was really brave, by the way, I insisted. Your diving into the river. What did the girl have to do with the gang fighting under the bridge, anyhow? I asked, digging further. Um, Im not supposed to talk about it, Vincent said, studying the concrete a few inches in front of his feet.

Oh yeah. Of course, I said lightly. You just look really young to be a cop. I couldnt stop a facetious smile from spreading across my lips. I told you Im a student, he said, giving me an uncertain grin. He could tell I didnt download it. I didnt see anything. I didnt hear anything, I said dramatically.

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Vincent laughed, his good mood returning. Kate, what are you doing this weekend? Do you want to do something? I nodded, since I couldnt speak. Taking my silence as hesitation, he added quickly, Not like a formal date or anything. Just hanging out. We can Wander around the Marais. I nodded again, and then managed to get out, That would be great.

Okay, how about Saturday afternoon? In public. He held up his hands as if showing he wasnt hiding anything. As soon as it was out of my mouth I realized that I was afraid. Just a little bit. I wondered once more if that was his pull on me. Maybe my parents deaths had left me with a lack of self-preservation and it was the hint of danger that I was going for.

Or maybe I was attracted to the vague aura of untouchable aloofness that he exuded. Maybe all he was to me was a challenge. Whatever the reason, it was effective. I really liked this guy.

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And I wanted to see him again. Night, day, I didnt care. Id be there. He lifted an eyebrow and chuckled. Not afraid of me. I couldnt help myself from laughing along.

Nodding the other direction down the boulevard, he said, Jules is probably waiting for me. See you Saturday. Meet you outside the rue du Bac Mtro station at three? Saturday, three oclock, I confirmed as he turned and walked away. I dont think it would be exaggerating much to say that my feet didnt touch the ground the whole way home.

My heart caught in my throat as I wondered not for the first time why this too-gorgeous-to-be-true guy had any interest whatsoever in plain old. My insecurity crumbled when I saw his face light up as I approached. You came, he said as he leaned in to give me the bises, those double-cheeked air-kisses that Europeans are famous for. Though I shivered when his skin touched mine, my cheeks were warm for a good five minutes afterward.

Of course, I said, drawing on every drop of my cool and confident reserve, since, to tell the truth, I was feeling a bit nervous. So, where are we off to? We began walking down the steps to the subway tracks. Have you been to the Village Saint-Paul? I shook my head. Doesnt ring a bell. Perfect, he said, seeming pleased with himself but giving no further explanation. We barely talked on the train, but it wasnt for lack of conversation.

I dont know if it is just a cultural thing, or because the trains themselves are so quiet, but as soon as people step into the car from the platform they shut up. Vincent and I stood facing each other, holding on to the central steel pole for balance, and checked out the other passengers, who were busy checking us out. Have I mentioned that checking people out is the French national pastime? As we turned a corner and the train jerked to one side, he put an arm around my shoulders to steady me.

We havent even gotten there and youre already making a move? Of course not. Im a gentleman through and through, he responded in a quiet voice. I would throw my coat over a puddle for you any day.

Im no damsel in distress, I retorted as the train pulled to a stop. Whewwell, thats a good thing, he said, breathing a fake sigh of relief. How about opening the door for me, then? I grinned as I flipped up the metal door-release lever and stepped onto the platform. We emerged from the Saint-Paul stop directly in front of the massive classical church called the glise Saint-Paul.

I used to come here when I was a kid, I said to Vincent as I peered up at the decorative facade. When I came to visit my grandparents during the summer, there was a girl I used to play with who lived just there. I pointed to a building a few doors away. Her dad told us that this street was used for jousts in the Middle Ages.

Sandrine and I used to sit on the church steps and pretend we were in the middle of a medieval tournament. I closed my eyes and I was back, ten years ago, reliving the sounds and colors of our imaginary tourney. You know, I always thought that if the centuries and centuries of Pariss ghosts could materialize all at once, you would find yourself surrounded by the most fascinating people.

I stopped, suddenly embarrassed that I was spouting off to this guy I barely knew with details about one of my several dreamworlds. Vincent smiled. If I were riding to the challenge, would you give me your favor to display on my arm, fair lady? I pretended to dig through my bag. I cant seem to find my lace kerchief. How about a Kleenex? Laughing, Vincent threw an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tightly.

Youre amazing, he said. Thats a definite step up from amusing, I reminded him, unable to prevent my cheeks from reddening with pleasure. We headed to a side road leading down toward the river. Halfway there, Vincent stepped through the large wooden doorway of a four-story building, pulling me behind him. Like many Parisian apartment blocks, this one had been constructed around an internal courtyard sheltered from the street.

The most modest courtyards are barely as big as a king-size bed, Others are large, some even having trees and benches, forming a quiet haven for residents away from the busy street.

This courtyard was massive and had little shops, and even an outdoor caf, scattered among the ground-floor apartments, something I had never seen before. What is this place? Vincent smiled and touched my arm, pointing to another open doorway on the far side of the courtyard.


This is just the beginning, he said. There are about five of these courtyards all linked together off the street, so you can wander for as long as you want without seeing or hearing the outside world. Its all art galleries and antique shops. I thought youd like it. Like it? I love it! This is incredible! I said. I cant believe I havent been here before. Its off the beaten path. Vincent seemed proud of his knowledge of Pariss out-of-the-way spots.

And I was just happy that he wanted me along to explore them with him. Ill say, I agreed. Its almost completely hidden from the outside. Where do we start? We strolled through stores and galleries packed with everything from old posters to ancient Buddha heads. For a city heaving with summer tourists, the shops had surprisingly few visitors, and we wandered through the spaces as if they were our own private treasure troves.

As we browsed through an antique clothes store, Vincent stopped in front of a glass case that held jewelry. Hey, Kate, maybe you can help me. I need to get a gift for someone. Sure, I said, peering into the case as the shopkeeper lifted the cover for us. I fingered a pretty silver ring with a cluster of flowers curving outward from its surface.

What would someone your age like? My age? Im only three years younger than you. Maybe less, depending on your birthday. June, he said. Okay, then two and a half.

He laughed. All right, you got me there. Its just that Im not sure what shed like. And her birthdays coming up. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. What an idiot I had been: He obviously just saw me as a friend Hmm, I said, closing my eyes and trying to hide my dismay.

I forced them back open and stared at the case. I guess it depends on her taste. Does she wear more feminine, flowery clothes, or is she more into Definitely not flowery, he said, stifling a laugh. Well, I think this is really pretty, I said, pointing to a leather cord with a single teardrop-shaped silver pendant hanging from it. My voice wavered as I tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow the lump in my throat. Vincent leaned closer to the piece. I think youre right.

Its perfect. Youre a genius, Kate. He lifted the necklace from the case and handed it to the shopkeeper. Im just going to wait for you outside, I said, and left as he fished through his pockets for his wallet.

Get a grip, I chided myself. It had seemed too good to be true, and it had been. He was only a really friendly guy. Who said I was cute. But who must just like to hang out with cute girls while downloading vintage jewelry for his girlfriend. I wonder what she looks like.

My hands were clenched so tightly that my fingernails dug little trenches into my palms. The pain felt good. It relieved some of the stinging in my chest. Vincent came out of the shop, tucking a little envelope into his jeans pocket as he closed the door behind him.

Seeing my face, he came to an abrupt stop. Whats wrong? Nothing, I said, shaking my head. I just needed some air. No, he insisted. Somethings bothering you. I shook my head resolutely. Okay, Kate, he said, linking his arm through mine. I wont force you to talk. The pressure of his arm against my own filled me with warmth, but I mentally pushed it away.

I was so used to self-protection by now that it was almost a reflex. We wandered out of that courtyard and into another, walking in silence for a few minutes as we paused to look into shop windows. So, I said finally. I knew I shouldnt say it, but I couldnt help myself. Whos your girlfriend?

Your girlfriend. Who you bought the necklace for. He stopped and faced me. Kate, the necklace is for a friend A very good friend. He sounded I wondered for a second if it was the truth, then decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Vincent studied my face. You thought I was asking you to help me choose a present for my girlfriend?

And that made you feel From the smile stretching across his lips I could tell he was about to say something that would embarrass me, so I began walking away. Wait, Kate! Im sorry. I decided to play nonchalant about it. You told me this wasnt a formal date when you invited me to come.

Why should I care if you have a girlfriend? Absolutely, he said, giving me a fake-serious look. Yeah, you and I are just friends Nothing more, nothing less. I agreed, my heart giving a little painful twist. He broke into a large grin and, leaning over, kissed me on the cheek.

Kate, he whispered, you are way too gullible. What I began, but his steely expression quieted me and I followed his leadwalking steadily, but not quite running, toward a doorway. Once on the street, he headed back toward the subway. Where are we going?

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I asked, breathless from the brisk pace. I saw someone I didnt want to run into. He slipped his cell phone from his pocket and speed-dialed a number. Getting no response, he hung up and tried another. Do you mind telling me whats going on? I asked, confused by his sudden personality change. We have to find Jules, Vincent said, talking more to himself than to me.

His painting studios right around the corner. I stopped, and since he had ahold of my arm, I pulled him Who are we running away from? It took a lot of effort for Vincent to compose himself. Please let me explain later. Its really important that we find one of my The wonderful feeling from five minutes ago had disappeared.

Now I felt like telling him to go ahead without me. But remembering what my days had consisted of lately, I decided to throw caution and boredom to the wind and follow him. He led me to an apartment building that practically oozed with old-Paris charm next to the glise Saint-Paul.

We climbed a tightly winding wood staircase to the second-floor landing. Vincent knocked once before pushing the door open. The studios walls were hung with paintings all the way up to the high ceiling. Reclining nudes hung alongside geometriclooking townscapes. The visual overload of color and form was as overwhelming as the strong smell of paint thinner.

In the far corner of the room a stunningly beautiful woman was draped across an emerald green couch. Dressed in a tiny bathrobe that barely covered her, she might as well have been naked. Hi, Vincent, she called across the room with a low, smoky voice that couldnt have matched her seductive looks better if she had bought them as a paired set. Vincents friend, Jules, walked out of a tiny bathroom just beyond the couch. Wiping some dripping paintbrushes on a rag, he said without looking up, Vince, man.

Just getting started with Valerie here. Did you get Jean-Baptistes call? Jules, we have to talk, Vincent said with a sense of urgency He looked at me in surprise and then, seeing Vincents face, his own darkened. Whats going on? Vincent cleared his throat, staring expressionlessly at Jules. He pronounced his words with care. The code word meant something to Jules.

His eyes narrowed. Outside, he said, looking sideways at me, and strode out the door. Be right back, Kate, Vincent said. Oh, and this is Valerie, one of Juless models.

And having made that introduction, he followed Jules into the staircase, the door slamming behind him. A gentleman even during a crisis, I thought, amazed at Vincents sangfroid in making sure I was introduced to Naked Girl before leaving us alone together. Hi, I said. Bonjour, she replied, bored.

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Picking up a paperback, she settled back to read. I lingered near the door, looking at the paintings while trying to hear what was going on outside.

Their voices were hushed, but I could pick up a few words. Im with you now. Ambrose can be our third, Jules responded. There was silence, and then Vincent was speaking to someone on the phone. He hung up and said, Hes on his way.

Why the hell did you bring her with you? Jules sounded incredulous. Shes with me because we Vincents low voice traveled through the thin wood door easily. He called it a date, I thought with as much pleasure as I could derive under the circumstances. That is exactly why she should not be here, Jules continued. JB only said we couldnt bring people home I dont see why she cant come here. Their voices were getting lower. I scooted closer to the door, keeping an eye on Valerie, who glanced at me and back down at her book.

She obviously couldnt care less if I was eavesdropping. Anywhere we have a permanent address is off-limits for. Or whatever. You know the rules.

In any case, dates over! There was a pregnant silence, which I imagined was taken up by lots of boy-to-boy stare-down action, and then the door opened and Vincent walked in, looking apologetic.

Im sorry, I have to take care of something. Ill walk you to the Mtro. I waited for him to give an explanation, but none came. Thats okay, I said, trying to sound like I didnt mind. But dont worry about seeing me to the Mtro. Ill do some wandering on my own. Walk up to rue des Rosiers for some shopping or something.

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He looked relieved, as if that was the response he had hoped for. Ill at least come downstairs with you.

No, really, thats okay, I said, feeling a little cloud of anger form inside me. Something was obviously going on that I didnt But it was still rude of Jules to demand that I leave. Not to mention cowardly of Vincent to give in.

I insist, he said, and opening the door for me, he followed me out into the hallway. Jules stood, arms crossed over his chest, glowering at us. Vincent walked me down the stairs and into the courtyard. Im sorry, he said. Theres something going on. Something I have to take care of. Like police business, you mean? I said, unable to hide my sarcasm. Yeah, something like that, he said evasively.

And you cant talk about it. Well, I guess Ill see you around our neighborhoodThe sudden atten- tion attached to this moment burns itself out instanter and relegates the listener to a realm of inattention and distraction They are full of a corrupt brightness, of improper appeals and moral evasions. It had seemed too good to be true, and it had been.

Vincent muttered, his expression assuming the hardened look itd had the first time I met him. He sounded