evening, when they were all assembled in the saloon, the ladies were in higher spirits even than usual, not excepting the Signora herself, who rarely laid aside her gravity, though always cheerful. On this occasion, however, she went so far as to express a wish to dance a saraband with her visitor. The Count exerted himself to maintain his reputation of a first-rate dancer; and so pleased his partner, that when the step was over she requested him to repeat it, and so once again, until he was in a complete bath of perspiration. The Signora then, for the sake, as she said, of its greater coolness, hastily led him into an adjoining apartment.
The moment they had entered it, she closed the door, and taking off, without a word said, the Count’s doublet, and throwing back his collar, applied her agile hand to the highest shoulder, which she rubbed and pulled about vigorously, as though she were twisting a piece off. This operation occupied but a few seconds, and the lady having then opened a drawer and thrown something into it, led Ulric to a mirror: “Behold, Count,” said she, “the condition on which Lucretia promised you her heart and hand, is fulfilled; I have rectified the trifling defect which derogated in some degree from the elegance of your figure. Resume your courage, banish all melancholy, and fly to Goslar; the capricious Lucretia has no longer any pretext for refusing you.”
