Parozzi, should all this be revealed to Andreas--?"

Here his reflections were interrupted. Memmo, Falieri, and
Contarino entered the room, three young Venetians of the highest
rank, Parozzi's inseparable companions, men depraved both in mind
and body, spendthrifts, voluptuaries, well known to every usurer in
Venice, and owing more than their paternal inheritance would ever
admit of their paying.

"Why, how is this, Parozzi?" cried Memmo as he entered, a wretch
whose every feature exhibited marks of that libertinism to which his
life had been dedicated; "I can scarce recover myself from my
astonishment. For Heaven's sake, is this report true? Did you
really hire Matteo to murder the Doge's niece?"

"I?" exclaimed Parozzi, and hastily turned away to hide the deadly
paleness which overspread his countenance; "why should you suppose
that any such designs--surely, Memmo, you are distracted."

Memmo.--By my soul, I speak but the plain matter of fact. Nay, only
ask Falieri; he can tell you more.

Falieri.--Faith, it is certain, Parozzi, that Lomellino has declared
to the Doge as a truth beyond doubting that you, and none but you,
were the person who instigated Matteo to attempt Rosabella's life.

Parozzi.--And I tell you again that Lomellino knows not what he
says.

Contarino.--Well, well, only be upon your guard. Andreas is a