‘I know not by what right, madam, I am thus questioned. Is it because I wear such tinsel rags as these?’
‘Bethink you in whose presence you stand, boy?’ said the Count sternly; ‘that lady is one before whom the haughtiest noble is proud to lay his homage.’
‘Nay, nay,’ broke she in gently, ‘he will tell me all I ask in kindness, not in fear.’
‘Not in fear, I promise you,’ said he proudly, and he drew himself up to his highest.
‘Was not that like him!’ exclaimed the Duchess eagerly. ‘It was his own voice! And what good Italian you speak, boy,’ said she, addressing Gerald, with a pleasant smile. ‘The Jesuit Fathers have given you the best Roman accent. Tell me, what were their teachings—what have you read?’
‘Nothing regularly—nothing in actual study, madam; but, passingly, I have read, in French, some memoirs, plays, sermons, poems, romances, and suchlike; in English, very little; and in Italian, a few of the very good?’
‘Which do you call the very good?’ ‘I call Dante.’
‘So do I.
‘Sometimes I call Tasso, always Ariosto, so.’
She nodded an assent, and told him to continue.