anyone. It always ends badly."

"You come late with your counsel, Sor Ercole. In truth, a very good
piece of advice when a man is fifty, and married, and wears a
skull-cap. When I wear a skull-cap and take snuff I will follow your
instructions." He walked up and down the room, grinding his teeth, and
clapping his hands together. Ercole rose and stopped him.

"Let us talk seriously," he said.

"With all my heart; as seriously as you please."

"You have only seen this signorina once."

"Once!" cried Nino,--"as if once were not--"

"Diavolo; let me speak. You have only seen her once. She is noble, an
heiress, a great lady--worse than all, a foreigner; as beautiful as a
statue, if you please, but twice as cold. She has a father who knows
the proprieties, a piece of iron, I tell you, who would kill you just
as he would drink a glass of wine, with the greatest indifference, if
he suspected you lifted your eyes to his daughter."

"I do not believe your calumnies," said Nino still hotly, "She is not
cold, and if I can see her she will listen to me. I am sure of it."

"We will speak of that by and by. You--what are you? Nothing but a
singer, who has not even appeared before the public, without a baiocco
in the world or anything else but your voice. You are not even
handsome."