In short, Sir Lionardo was neither a good citizen nor a powerful writer, and yet a man of excellent natural disposition, affectionate to his friends, and most eager for their welfare. Some will think it impossible that one individual could be the best of men and yet a bad citizen; but if there is any contradiction we see it in nature, and I could mention modern examples if propriety allowed.
Lionardo, entering the room, first took good care to ascertain that the page had closed the door, then drew a screen before it, and advanced smilingly towards Isabella, extending his hand. But Isabella rushed impulsively towards him, and placing her hand on his shoulder, and leaning her head upon his breast, exclaimed:
"O my good and noble Lionardo, you at least have not forgotten your Isabella."
Lionardo, confused and deeply moved by such an exhibition of feeling, replied:
"My dear lady Isabella, how or why should I have forgotten you?"
They stood thus for a little while, and then seating themselves upon the couch, Isabella, looking in his face, continued:
"It is so long since we have seen each other; and you look ill. Lionardo, such excess of study injures you."
"O Isabella," said Lionardo, "my trouble is here," and he struck his heart, "and I pray God daily that He will call me to His holy peace, and it seems as if He most mercifully was beginning to listen to me. But let us not talk of myself—I do not come here on my own account, your ladyship. Now I pray you to hear what I have to say, as if I were a brother. So long as I knew you to be, if not happy, at least safe, I kept far from you. I might have wished you to remain happy, because," and here he lowered his voice, "true happiness consists in a life of virtue; but my endeavors have been useless, as well as the admonitions of Cosimo, your father, who often warned you, saying 'Isabella, I shall not live for ever.'"
Isabella, calling up all her womanly pride, interrupted him: