He advanced towards the Doge.
Andreas.--Now, then, Flodoardo--your resolution?
Flodoardo.--Should I deliver Abellino into your power, do you
solemnly swear that Rosabella shall be my bride?
Andreas.--She shall! and NOT TILL THEN.
Rosabella.--Ah! Flodoardo, I fear this undertaking will end
fatally. Abellino is so crafty, so dreadful. Oh! look well to
yourself, for should you meet with the detested monster, whose
dagger -
Flodoardo (interrupting her hastily).--Oh! silence, Rosabella--at
least allow me to hope. Noble Andreas, give me your hand, and
pledge your princely word that, Abellino once in your power, nothing
shall prevent me from being Rosabella's husband.
Andreas.--I swear it; deliver into my power, either alive or dead,
this most dangerous foe of Venice, and nothing shall prevent
Rosabella from being your wife. In pledge of which I here give you
my princely hand.
Flodoardo grasped the Doge's hand in silence, and shook it thrice.
He turned to Rosabella, and seemed on the point of addressing her,
when he suddenly turned away, struck his forehead, and measured the
apartment with disordered and unsteady steps. The clock in the
tower of St. Mark's church struck five.
"Time flies!" cried Flodoardo; "no more delay, then. In four-and-
twenty hours will I produce in this very palace this dreaded bravo,
Abellino."
Andreas shook his head. "Young man," said he, "be less confident in
your promises; I shall have more faith in your performance.
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