I went in danger of
my life. You had basely deserted me. My Lord Gambara, more generous,
offered me shelter and protection. I was not born for martyrdom and
dungeons," she added, and sighed with smiling plaintiveness. "Are you, of
all men, the one to blame me?"
"I have not the right, I know," I answered. "Nor do I blame you more than
I blame myself. But since I blame myself most bitterly--since I despise
and hate myself for what is past, you may judge what my feelings are for
you. And judging them, I think it were well you gave me leave to go."
"I came to speak of other than ourselves, Ser Agostino," she answered, all
unmoved still by my scorn, or leastways showing nothing of what emotions
might be hers. "It is of that simpering daughter of my Lord of Pagliano."
"There is nothing I could less desire to hear you talk upon," said I.
"It is so very like a man to scorn the thing I could tell him after he has
already heard it from me."
"The thing you told me was false," said I. "It was begotten of fear to see
your own base interests thwarted. It is proven so by the circumstance that
the Duke has sought the hand of Madonna Bianca for Cosimo d'Anguissola."
"For Cosimo?" she cried, and I never saw her so serious and thoughtful.
"For Cosimo? You are sure of this?" The urgency of her tone was such that
it held me there and compelled my answer.
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