answer to the message by which he notified to me the imprisonment of
the French king.

Lomellino.--Displeased he will be, signor, no doubt of it; but what
then? Venice need not fear his displeasure, while Andreas still
lives. But when you and your heroes are once gone to your eternal
rest--then, alas for thee, poor Venice. I fear your golden times
will soon come to their conclusion.

Andreas.--What! Have we not many young officers of great promise?

Lomellino.--Alas, what are most of them? Heroes in the fields of
Venus. Heroes at a drinking-bout. Effeminate striplings, relaxed
both in mind and body. But how am I running on, forgetful. Ah,
when one is grown old, and conversing with an Andreas, it is easy to
forget everything else. My lord, I sought you with a request, a
request, too, of consequence.

Andreas.--You excite my curiosity.

Lomellino.--About a week ago there arrived here a young Florentine
nobleman called Flodoardo, a youth of noble appearance and great
promise.

Andreas.--Well?

Lomellino.--His father was one of my dearest friends. He is dead
now, the good old generous nobleman. In our youth we served
together on board the same vessel, and many a turbaned head has
fallen beneath his sword. Ah, he was a brave soldier.