"I know not: but there is a tone in that foreigner's voice that I never can mistake so clear, and yet so hollow : when I hear it I almost fancy there is such a thing as conscience. However, we must rid ourselves of an impertinent. Mascari, Signer Zicci hath not yet honoured our poor house with his presence. He is a distinguished stranger we must give a banquet in his honour."
"Ah!—and the cypress wine! The cypress is the proper emblem of the grave."
"But this anon. I am superstitious: there are strange stories of his power and foresight: remember the Sicilian quackery! But meanwhile the Pisani ."
"Your Excellency is infatuated. The actress has bewitched you."
"Mascari," said the Prince, with a haughty smile, "through these veins rolls the blood of the old Visconti—of those who boasted that no woman ever escaped their lust, and no man their resentment. The crown of my fathers has shrunk into a gewgaw and a toy;— their ambition and their spirit are undecayed. My honour is now enlisted in this pursuit—Isabel must be mine."
"Another ambuscade?" said Mascari, inquiringly.
"Nay, why not enter the house itself: the situation is lonely—and the door is not made of iron."
Before Mascari could reply, the gentleman of the chamber announced the Signer Zicci.
The Prince involuntarily laid his hand on the sword placed on the table—then with a smile at his own impulse, rose ; and met the foreigner at the threshold, with all the profuse and respectful courtesy of Italian simulation.
"This is an honour highly prized," said the Prince; "I have long desired the friendship of one so distinguished "
"And I have come to give you that friendship," replied Zicci, in a sweet but chilling voice. "To no man yet in Naples have I extended this hand permit it, Prince, to grasp your own."
The Neapolitan bowed over the hand he pressed; but as he touched it, a shiver came over him, and his heart stood still. Zicci bent on him his dark, smiling eyes, and then seated himself with a familiar air.
"Thus it is signed and sealed—I mean our friendship, noble Prince. And now I will tell you the object of my visit. I find, your Excellency, that, unconsciously perhaps, we are rivals. Can we not accommodate our pretensions? A girl of no moment—an actress;—bah! it is not worth a quarrel. Shall we throw for her? He who casts the lowest shall resign his claim?"
