"
Andreas.--I suspect he will be sorely displeased when he receives my
answer to the message by which he notified to me the imprisonment of
the French king.
Lomellino.--Displeased he will be, signor, no doubt of it; but what
then? Venice need not fear his displeasure, while Andreas still
lives. But when you and your heroes are once gone to your eternal
rest--then, alas for thee, poor Venice. I fear your golden times
will soon come to their conclusion.
Andreas.--What! Have we not many young officers of great promise?
Lomellino.--Alas, what are most of them? Heroes in the fields of
Venus. Heroes at a drinking-bout. Effeminate striplings, relaxed
both in mind and body. But how am I running on, forgetful. Ah,
when one is grown old, and conversing with an Andreas, it is easy to
forget everything else. My lord, I sought you with a request, a
request, too, of consequence.
Andreas.--You excite my curiosity.
Lomellino.--About a week ago there arrived here a young Florentine
nobleman called Flodoardo, a youth of noble appearance and great
promise.
Andreas.--Well?
Lomellino.--His father was one of my dearest friends. He is dead
now, the good old generous nobleman. In our youth we served
together on board the same vessel, and many a turbaned head has
fallen beneath his sword. Ah, he was a brave soldier.
Andreas.--While celebrating the father's bravery, you seem to have
quite forgotten the son.
Lomellino.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68