"
"I say it once more, my lord," resumed Flodoardo, while he rose from
the ground, "that I intend to make no apology; I mean not to excuse
my love for Rosabella, but to request your approbation of that love.
Andreas, I adore your niece; I demand her for my bride."
The Doge started in astonishment at this bold and unexpected
request.
"It is true," continued the Florentine, "I am no more than a needy,
unknown youth, and it seems a piece of strange temerity when such a
man proposes himself to espouse the heiress of the Venetian Doge.
But, by Heaven, I am confident that the great Andreas means not to
bestow his Rosabella on one of those whose claims to favour are
overflowing coffers, extensive territories, and sounding titles, or
who vainly decorate their insignificance with the glory obtained by
the titles of their ancestors, glory of which they are themselves
incapable of acquiring a single ray. I acknowledge freely that I
have as yet performed no actions which make me deserving of such a
reward as Rosabella; but it shall not be long ere I WILL perform
such actions, or perish in the attempt."
The Doge turned from him with a look of displeasure.
"Oh, be not incensed with him, dear uncle," said Rosabella. She
hastened to detain the Doge, threw her white arms around his neck
fondly, and concealed in his bosom the tears with which her
countenance was bedewed.
"Make your demands," continued Flodoardo, still addressing himself
to the Doge; "say what you wish me to do, and what you would have me
become, in order to obtain from you the hand of Rosabella.
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