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"Stay yet one moment, noble Andreas," cried the Florentine. The Doge turned, and Flodoardo threw himself at his feet. Andreas looked down with calm and serious dignity on the kneeling offender, by whom his friendship had been so unworthily rewarded, and by whom his confidence had been so cruelly betrayed. "Young man," said he, in a stern voice, "the attempt to excuse yourself must be fruitless."
The old Lomellino seems to be extremely intimate with this Flodoardo. They say he was well acquainted with his father. Memmo. It was he who presented him to the Doge. Parozzi. Hark! Surely some one knocked at the palace door? Memmo. It can be none but Contarino. Now, then, we shall hear whether he has discovered the banditti. I'll swear to that footstep, it's Contarino.
"Monster! thou canst not be Flodoardo! such a fiend can never have been such a seraph. Flodoardo's actions were good and glorious as a demi-god's! 'Twas of him that I learned to love good and glorious actions, and 'twas he who encouraged me to attempt them myself; his heart was pure from all mean passions, and capable of conceiving all great designs.
She trembled more for Flodoardo than herself. "Abellino!" the Florentine repeated, in a loud and angry tone, threw from him his mantle and barrette, and had already laid his hand on the lock of the door to open it, when Rosabella uttered a cry of terror. "Stay, Flodoardo!" she cried, rushing towards him, and Ha!
I know all that, Camilla, but can I not make you comprehend that I am not in love with Flodoardo, and do not mean to be in love with him, and that love has nothing at all to do in the business? I repeat to you, what I feel for him is nothing but sincere and fervent friendship; and surely Flodoardo deserves that I should feel that sentiment for him.
At that moment the evening sun broke through the clouds, and a ray of its setting glory was thrown full upon the countenance of Rosabella. She started from the sofa, extended her arms towards the radiant orb, and exclaimed, while a smile of hope played round her lips, "God is merciful; God will have mercy on me." Contarino. Was it at five o'clock that Flodoardo engaged to produce Abellino?
He caught her hand and pressed it eagerly to his lips. "I have begged for it, Rosabella, and my suit has been rejected." "You are a strange enthusiast," she said with difficulty, and scarcely knew what she said, while Flodoardo drew her gently nearer to him, and murmured in a supplicating voice, "Rosabella!" "What would you of me?" "My happiness!"
Andreas withdrew himself gently from Rosabella's arm, and for some time paced the apartment slowly, with a countenance sad and earnest. Rosabella sank upon a sofa which stood near her, and wept. Flodoardo eyed the Doge, and waited for his decision with impatience. Thus passed some minutes.
"Illustrious Venetians!" it was thus that Flodoardo broke silence, and he spoke with the commanding tone of a hero "I conclude that his Highness has already made known to you the object of your being thus assembled.
Now I would lay a heavy wager that the Florentine will return without having finished the business. A Senator. And I would engage, on the contrary, that there is but one man in Venice who is capable of seizing Abellino, and that THAT man is Flodoardo of Florence.
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