ARABELLA. My lady!

LEONORA (rising.) What, before my eyes! with a notorious coquette! In
presence of the whole nobility of Genoa! (strongly affected.)--Rosa!
Arabella! and before my weeping eyes!

ROSA. Look upon it only as what it really was--a piece of gallantry. It
was nothing more.

LEONORA. Gallantry! What! Their busy interchange of glances--the
anxious watching of her every motion--the long and eager kiss upon her
naked arm, impressed with a fervor that left in crimson glow the very
traces of his lips! Ha! and the transport that enwrapped his soul, when,
with fixed eyes, he sate like painted ecstacy, as if the world around him
had dissolved, and naught remained in the eternal void but he and Julia.
Gallantry? Poor thing! Thou hast never loved. Think not that thou
canst teach me to distinguish gallantry from love!

ROSA. No matter, Signora! A husband lost is as good as ten lovers
gained.

LEONORA. Lost? Is then one little intermission of the heart's
pulsations a proof that I have lost Fiesco? Go, malicious slanderer!
Come no more into my presence! 'Twas an innocent frolic--perhaps a mere
piece of gallantry. Say, my gentle Arabella, was it not so?

ARABELLA. Most certainly! There can be no doubt of it!

LEONORA (in a reverie). But does she then feel herself sole mistress of