“This is very tedious,” said Deodonato. “Let him speak no more.”
And again he drew near to Dulcissima, and there, before them all, he fell on his knee. And a murmur ran through the hall.
“Madam,” said Deodonato, “if you love me, wed me. And, if you love me not, depart in peace and in honor; and I, Deodonato, will live my life alone.”
Then the damsel trembled, and barely did Deodonato catch her words:
“There are many men here,” said she.
“It is not given to Princes,” said Deodonato, “to be alone. Nevertheless, if you will, leave me alone.”
And the damsel bent low, so that the breath of her mouth stirred the hair on Deodonato’s head, and he shivered as he knelt.
“My Prince and my King!” said she.
And Deodonato shot to his feet, and before them all he kissed her, and, turning, spoke:
“As I have wooed, let every man in this Duchy woo. As I have won, let every man that is worthy win. For, unless he so woo, and unless he so win, vain is his wooing and vain is his winning, and a fig for his wedding, say I, Deodonato! I, that was Deodonato, and now am—Deodonato and Dulcissima.”