“Oh, the well-educated young person! Where didst pick her up, Ser Gerard?”
“Hold thy peace, Marcia,” said Gerard, awakened by the raised trebles from a gloomy reverie. “Be not so insolent! The grave shall close over thy beauty as it hath over fairer than thee.”
“They began,” said Marcia petulantly.
“Then be thou the first to leave off.”
“At thy request, my friend.” She then whispered Gerard, “It was only to make you laugh; you are distraught, you are sad. Judge whether I care for the quips of these little fools, or the admiration of these big fools. Dear Signor Gerard, would I were what they take me for? You should not be so sad.”
Gerard sighed deeply; and shook his head. But touched by the earnest young tones, caressed the jet black locks, much as one strokes the head of an affectionate dog.
At this moment a galley drifting slowly down stream got entangled for an instant in their ropes: for, the river turning suddenly, they had shot out into the stream; and this galley came between them and the bank. In it a lady of great beauty was seated under a canopy with gallants and dependents standing behind her.
Gerard looked up at the interruption. It was the Princess Claelia.
He coloured and withdrew his hand from Marcia's head.
Marcia was all admiration. “Aha! ladies,” said she, “here is a rival an ye will. Those cheeks were coloured by Nature-like mine.”