“Take a chair,” he said brusquely.
Lorenza drew an armchair to her and sat down.
“Speak quick,” said the magistrate; “what do you want?”
“To place myself under your protection,” answered Lorenza.
“Ho, ho,” said he with a jeering look, peculiar to him.
“My lord, I have been abducted from my family and forced into a clandestine marriage by a man who has been ill-using me during three years and would be my death.”
He looked at the noble countenance and was moved by the voice so sweet that it seemed to sing.
“Where do you come from?” he asked.
“I am a Roman and my name is Lorenza Feliciani.”
“Are you a lady of rank, for I do not know the name?”