Andreas.--While celebrating the father's bravery, you seem to have
quite forgotten the son.

Lomellino.--His son is arrived in Venice, and wishes to enter into
the service of the Republic. I entreat you, give the young man some
respectable situation; he will prove the boast of Venice when we
shall be in our graves, on that would I hazard my existence.

Andreas.--Has he sense and talent?

Lomellino.--That he has; a heart like his father's. Will it please
you to see and converse with him? He is yonder, among the masks in
the great saloon. One thing I must tell you, as a specimen of his
designs. He has heard of the banditti who infest Venice, and he
engages that the first piece of service which he renders the
Republic shall be the delivering into the hands of justice those
concealed assassins, who hitherto have eluded the vigilance of our
police.

Andreas.--Indeed! I doubt that promise will be too much for his
power to perform. Flodoardo, I think you called him? Tell him I
would speak with him.

Lomellino.--Oh! then I have gained at least the HALF of my cause,
and I believe the WHOLE of it, for to see Flodoardo and not to like
him is as difficult as to look at Paradise and not wish to enter.
To see Flodoardo and to hate him is as unlikely as that a blind man
should hate the kind hand which removes the cataract from his eyes,
and pours upon them the blessings of light and beauties of nature.