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Updated: May 26, 2025
At the end of this pretty piece the Countess Lionella fairly took his own face between her hands, crumpled his lips into a bud and kissed them full. Angioletto coloured, though no one else did. It was evidently quite harmless, and afterwards he was ashamed of his shame.
"The wagging finger of Fate, sir," replied Angioletto readily, "and the conjunctions of the stars. My horoscope was taken at Foligno with the utmost exactitude. Mars himself, for reasons of his own, seems to have presided over my begetting. More than that, though I have not the least desire to take your life should not, indeed, know what to do with it it will be impossible for me to avoid it.
"We are making rose-garlands to adorn our pretty heads," she said, laughing. "Come and sit by me, Angioletto, and sing to us. Who knows but what, if you are good, we shall not crown you with one of them?" Such as they were he could be for the time. He was by no means waxen; elastic rather.
"I hope not," Angioletto took him up; "because I have done with poetising and have a mind to try your trade." Beppo, his mouth full of onion, paused in his bite to gape at this dapper page, who, all scarlet and white as he was, talked after such a fashion. "How'll that be now?" he said. "You've never come all this way to crack a joke?" "Ah, never in the world, my friend," cried Angioletto.
What a cloud of green trees look, look how near the sky comes to them! Oh, my Angioletto, we are going to be so happy!" And the young girl laid her hot cheek on her lover's shoulder. He, though her premises were undeniable, had his doubts. Her words set him wondering what was to be the end of this light-hearted adventure.
For I must go." "Oh, Angioletto," cried Bellaroba, trembling and catching at his breast, "won't you can't you ruin me too? Then we shall be happy again." He pressed her to his heart. "Dearest dear," he said, half laughing, half sobbing, "you are quite ruined enough. Stay as you are. I will see you every night What! By the Mass, are you not my wife?" "Of course I am, Angioletto.
It should be added of Angioletto that he suppressed the incident of the Countess Lionella's salute. At supper there were evidences that, whatever had been Angioletto's fate, all had not gone so well with the Captain of Lances. Not that appetite failed him; indeed, he ate the more for his taciturnity.
'I have now to propose to you, turn for turn, a like favour to myself, which is that you shall take into your service a young gentlewoman of Venice, who is but newly come to Ferrara' What is the matter, Angioletto? You put me out. Where was I? Oh, yes 'She is respectably bred, very modest, very diligent, very pious, moderately handsome. My dear boy, if you want to sit down, by all means say so.
So bright and strong, and yet so deferential did he look, pleading his cause among them, Lionella could have kissed him again for nothing more than his dexterity. "Ah, you shall do whatever you like, Angioletto!" she cried. Borso's eyes twinkled, and he primmed his lips. "I do not go so far as Madama, Master Angioletto, but I shall be pleased to hear what you are pleased to give me."
First, however, I will ask you to do me a small service, which is to go to my bedchamber and send me my gentlemen, my dresser, and my clothes. I am, you perceive, entirely at your mercy. You will follow these persons back to me here, and will then give yourself up as I shall direct." Angioletto, out of bed by this time, knelt to the Duke's hand. "I am your Grace's servant," said he.
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