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Updated: June 20, 2025
But I confess I should like to know why your wife has a bed in my house." Angioletto nodded gravely. "I should be the last person to deny your Grace's right to all information. Bellaroba is my dear wife's name, her country is Venice, her duties are to be about Madama Lionella's person. My own duties are to be about hers, so far as I may."
And Olimpia, from her shutter, watched him go. There was no trouble on the child's score. The Countess was away; a feigned message from her was enough. Had she been at home and in a good humour, she would have accorded a real one, no doubt; so the deceit was quite harmless. Bellaroba demurred a little that she could not in person warn Angioletto, but the Captain begged her to have no fears.
Olimpia walked across it alone, went straight to a door at the bottom on the right-hand side, turned the handle, and entered. There was a table spread with supper; there was Captain Mosca seated at it eating a peach from his wine-glass; there was Bellaroba, flushed and marred with tears, leaning against the further wall.
When the cavalcade was on the point to start, Angioletto stepped forward and took Bellaroba by the hand. "Little lady," says he to his blushing captive, "I have a mule for the road which I am assured is a steady pacer. Will you be my pillion?" "Oh, yes, Messere," said Bellaroba in a twitter, and dropped him a curtsy of her best. "Excellent!" he cried gaily. "I can see that we are to be friends."
"Now, Mosca, your lie," said the Count, with his cold-steel delivery. Mosca did not stumble. "Master," he said, "I can do you service." "Do it then," whipped in the Count. "I can tell your Excellence why he succeeds no better with La Bellaroba." "Ah!" The Count was suspicious, but interested. "The little lady has a lover." "Body of a dog!" "Body of Angioletto, Excellence." "Angioletto?
Then, as the sun shot through the mist and revealed the lagoon, one broad sheet of silver and blue, the shawls were opened, limbs went luxuriously at the stretch; you could see and hear chatter the couple of adventurers if you cared. Bellaroba you have seen already very gentle, very simple, very unformed without and within. She had pretty ways, coaxing and appealing ways.
It is as timid as a nun's. Ferrara is the place of all the world for you. I look forward to your speedy establishment in a city where a girl may be like a flagstaff and yet not thought amiss." Bellaroba looked humbly at herself in the glass; though she could see that she was pretty, it was not to be denied that she was thin. Ah, no; she did not take after her mother.
"Buonaroba I know," said he. "What am I to think of Bellaroba, Guarino?" "Your Grace shall be pleased to think that his daughter has chosen her for her own person," said the Count. "Hum," said Borso, and signed the parchment. Then came another scrawl for "my love Angilotto," in which the miraculous news was told.
You have done well, Mosca it was time, my friend, for you are an expensive hack to keep at grass. Now listen. Take Bellaroba away command of the Contessa, of course. Take her to the little house in the Borgo. Make all fast, and return here in time for the steeple-jack. When you have him in the trap, run him through the body, raise the devil's uproar, and denounce him to the patrol.
Angioletto put his arm round Bellaroba's waist, and they began to pace the aisle in confidential talk. "Where are you going to live in this place, Bellaroba?" he asked her. "I don't know. Olimpia knows. There was a Monna Nanna we were to live with, I think. But Olimpia will decide. I must do as she wishes." "But why?" "She is older than I am two years. Besides I always have.
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