“By all accounts,” Naphta chimed in, “there will be a fine fat feeding for the senses.” In oils and in marbles, a humanistic taste would celebrate the glories of the senses⁠—of the sinful body whose flesh it had saved from putrefaction. There was nothing surprising about that⁠—it was of a piece with its fastidiousness in the matter of corporal punishment.

Thus they came upon the subject of torture⁠—introduced by Wehsal, to whom, it seemed, it made a particular appeal. “The question,” now⁠—what were the gentlemen’s views about it? He, Ferdinand, when he was “on the road,” liked to visit those quiet retreats in the centres of ancient culture, where such research into the conscience of man used to be carried on. He had seen the torture-chambers of Nuremberg and Regensburg, he had made a study of them, and been edified. They had certainly devised a number of ingenious ways of manhandling the body for the good of the soul. There had never been any outcry⁠—they rammed the famous choke-pear, itself such a very tasty morsel, into the victim’s mouth, and after that silence reigned.