"Forgive me, Princess. I—I fancy my poor wits have been shaken and need a little time to recover. At any rate, I do not understand you."
"You have conquered," she repeated in a low voice that dragged upon the words. Then, after a pause,—"You remember, once, promising me that at the last I should come and place my neck under your foot . . ." She glanced up at me and dropped her eyes again. "Yes, I see that you remember. Eccu—I am here."
"I remember, Princess: but even yet I do not understand. Why, and for what, should you beseech me?"
"In the first place for death. I am your wife . . ." She broke off with a shiver. "There is something in the name, messere—is there not?—that should move you to kindness, as a sportsman takes his game not unkindly to break its neck. That is all I ask of you—"
"Princess!"
She lifted a hand. "—except that you will let me say what I have to say. You shall think hard thoughts of me, and I am going to make them harder; but for your own sake you shall put away vile ones-if you can."
I stared at her stupidly dizzied a little with the words I am your wife, humming in my brain. Or say that I am naturally not quick-witted, and I will plead that for once my dullness did me no discredit.
At all events it saved me for the moment: for while I stared at her, utterly at a loss, a crackle of twigs warned us, and we turned together as, by the pathway leading from the high-road, the bushes parted and the face of Marc'antonio peered through upon the clearing.
"Salutation, O Princess!" said he gravely, and stepped out of cover attended by Stephanu, who likewise saluted.
The Princess drew herself up imperiously. "I thought, O Stephanu, that I had made plain my orders, that you two were neither to follow nor to watch me?"