The guards roughly interrupted him, and were carrying him away, when Vivaldi's commanding voice arrested them. He returned to speak a few words of consolation to his faithful servant, and, since they were to be separated, to take leave of him.
Paulo embraced his knees, and, while he wept, and his words were almost stifled by sobs, declared no force should drag him from his master, while he had life; and repeatedly appealed to the guards, with—"What did I demand to be brought here for? Did ever any body come here to seek pleasure? What right have you to prevent my going shares with my master in his troubles?"
"We do not intend to deny you that pleasure, friend," replied one of the guards.
"Don't you? Then heaven bless you!" cried Paulo, springing from his knees, and shaking the man by the hand with a violence, that would nearly have dislocated the shoulder of a person less robust.
"So come with us," added the guard, drawing him away from Vivaldi. Paulo now became outrageous, and, struggling with the guards, burst from them, and again fell at the feet of his master, who raised and embraced him, endeavouring to prevail with him to submit quietly to what was inevitable and to encourage him with hope.
"I trust that our separation will be short," said Vivaldi, "and that we shall meet in happier circumstances. My innocence must soon appear."
"We shall never, never meet again, Signormio, in this world," said Paulo, sobbing violently, "so don't make me hope so. That old Abbess knows what she is about too well to let us escape; or she would not have catched us up so cunningly as she did; so what signifies innocence! O! if my old lord, the Marchese, did but know where we are!"
Vivaldi interrupted him, and turning to the guards said, "I recommend my faithful servant to your compassion; he is innocent. It will some time, perhaps, be in my power to recompence you for any indulgence you may allow him, and I shall value it a thousand times more highly, than any you could shew to myself! Farewell, Paulo,——farewel! Officer, I am ready."
"O stay! Signor, for one moment—stay!" said Paulo.
"We can wait no longer," said the guard, and again drew Paulo away, who looking piteously after Vivaldi, alternately repeated, "Farewel, dear maestro! farewel dear, dear maestro!" and "What did I demand to be brought here for? What did I demand to be brought here for?—what was it for, if not to go shares with my maestro?" till Vivaldi was beyond the reach of sight and of hearing.