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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Blessed Lady!" she exclaimed, with lifted hands, "have mercy on me! Let all to-day end well!" Pale as death did she enter the chamber in which, on the day before, she had acknowledged her love for Flodoardo, and Flodoardo had sworn to risk his life to obtain her. Flodoardo was not yet arrived. The assembly was brilliant, the conversation was gay.
When her uncle desired Flodoardo to conduct her to the dancers, a soft blush overspread her cheek, and she doubted whether she should accept or decline the hand which was immediately offered. And to tell you my real opinion, my fair ladies, I suspect that very few of you would have been more collected than Rosabella, had you found yourselves similarly situated.
All listened to the chimes in the tower of St. Mark's Church, and trembled as they counted the strokes. Had not Camilla supported her, Rosabella would have sank upon the ground. The destined hour was past, and still Flodoardo came not! The venerable Andreas felt a sincere affection for the Florentine; he shuddered as he dwelt upon the probability that Abellino's dagger had prevailed.
Abellino advanced towards her, and attempted to raise her. She shrunk from his touch with horror. "No, Rosabella," said the bravo, in an altered voice, "what you saw was no illusion. Your favoured Flodoardo is no other than Abellino the bravo." "It is false!" interrupted Rosabella, starting from the ground in despair, and throwing herself for refuge on Camilla's bosom.
Rosabella trembled; her eyes could no longer sustain the fire of his glances, and a modest blush overspread her face and bosom. "Rosabella!" at length murmured Flodoardo, unconsciously; "Flodoardo!" sighed Rosabella, in the same tone. "Give me that violet!" he exclaimed, eagerly, then sank at her feet, and in a tone of the most humble supplication repeated, "Oh, give it to me!"
Why then followed a whole legion of sbirri and police- officers, and who should be at their head but the Florentine stranger. All. Flodoardo? What, Flodoardo? Contarino. Flodoardo. Falieri. What demon could have guided him thither? Parozzi. Hell and furies! Oh, that I had been there. Memmo. There, now, Parozzi, you see at least that Flodoardo is no coward. Falieri. Hush, let us hear the rest.
I am weary, and, besides, curiosity now detains me here, for I would fain see this Flodoardo, whom Lomellino thinks deserving of such extraordinary praise. Shall I tell you the truth, my dear uncle? I verily believe that I am already acquainted with him. There was a mask in a Grecian habit, whose appearance was so striking, that it was impossible for him to remain confounded with the crowd.
But Flodoardo of Florence has undertaken to render this important service to the Republic, to seize Abellino, cost what it may, and conduct him hither at the risk of his life. A Senator. The engagement will be difficult to fulfil. I doubt much Flodoardo's keeping his promise. Another. But if he SHOULD perform it, the obligation which Flodoardo will lay upon the Republic will not be trifling.
"Excuse myself!" interrupted Flodoardo, boldly; "no, my lord, I need no excuses for loving Rosabella; 'twere for him to excuse himself who had seen Rosabella and NOT loved her; yet, if it is indeed a crime in me that I adore Rosabella, 'tis a crime of which Heaven itself will absolve me, since it formed Rosabella so worthy to be adored."
It was examined, and found to contain the following lines, apparently written in blood: "Let no one pretend to Rosabella's hand, who is not prepared to share the fate of Monaldeschi. "The Bravo, "ABELLINO." "Oh, where shall I now fly for comfort? for protection?" exclaimed the Doge in despair, when this dreadful news was announced. "Why, why, is Flodoardo absent?"
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