Now even as his Highness spoke a mighty uproar arose under the palace windows, and Duke Deodonato, looking out of the window (which, be it remembered, but for the guidance of Heaven he might not have done), beheld a maiden of wonderful charms struggling in the clutches of two halberdiers of the guard, who were haling her off to prison.
“Bring hither that damsel,” said Deodonato.
Presently the damsel, still held by the soldiers, entered the room. Her robe was dishevelled and rent, her golden hair hung loose on her shoulders, and her eyes were full of tears.
“At whose suit is she arrested?” asked Deodonato.
“At the suit of the most learned Dr. Fusbius, may it please your Highness.”
“Sir,” said Dr. Fusbius, “it is true. This lady, grossly contemning your Highness’s decree, has refused my hand in marriage.”
“Is it true, damsel?” asked Duke Deodonato.
“Hear me, your Highness!” answered she “I left my dwelling but an instant, for we were in sore straits for—”
“Bread?” asked Deodonato, a touch of sympathy in his voice.
“May it please your Highness, no—pins wherewith to fasten our hair. And, as I ran to the merchant’s, this aged man—”