fancying that they regarded him with suspicion, especially Lorenzo, he
determined to pursue the highway, and rejoin his friend in Ferrara,
where he was certain to find him with but little difficulty.

The Spaniards had scarcely got clear of the city before Cornelia had
confided her whole history to the housekeeper, informing her that the
infant belonged to herself and to the Duke of Ferrara, and making her
acquainted with all that has been related, not concealing from her that
the journey made by her masters was to Ferrara, or that they went
accompanied by her brother, who was going to challenge the Duke Alfonso.

Hearing all this, the housekeeper, as though the devil had sent her to
complicate the difficulties and defer the restoration of Cornelia, began
to exclaim--"Alas! lady of my soul! all these things have happened to
you, and you remain carelessly there with your limbs stretched out, and
doing nothing! Either you have no soul at all, or you have one so poor
and weak that you do not feel it! And do you really suppose that your
brother has gone to Ferrara? Believe nothing of the kind, but rather be
sure that he has carried off my masters, and wiled them from the house,
that he may return and take your life, for he can now do it as one
would drink a cup of water. Consider only under what kind of guard and
protection we are left--that of three pages, who have enough to do with
their own pranks, and are little likely to put their hands to any thing
good. I, for my part, shall certainly not have courage to await what
must follow, and the destruction that cannot but come upon this house.
The Signor Lorenzo, an Italian, to put his trust in Spaniards, and ask
help and favour from them! By the light of my eyes. I will believe none
of that!" So saying, she made a fig[3] at herself. "But if you, my
daughter, will take good advice, I will give you such as shall truly
enlighten your way."