Rosabella.—I am weary, and, besides, curiosity now detains me here, for I would fain see this Flodoardo, whom Lomellino thinks deserving of such extraordinary praise. Shall I tell you the truth, my dear uncle? I verily believe that I am already acquainted with him. There was a mask in a Grecian habit, whose appearance was so striking, that it was impossible for him to remain confounded with the crowd. The least attentive eye must have singled him out from among a thousand. It was a tall light figure, so graceful in every movement; then his dancing was quite perfection.
Andreas (smiling, and threatening with his finger).—Child, child!
Rosabella.—Nay, my dear uncle, what I say is mere justice; it is possible, indeed, that the Greek and the Florentine may be two different persons, but still, according to Lomellino’s description—Oh! look, dear uncle, only look yonder; there stands the Greek, as I live.
Andreas.—And Lomellino is with him; they approach. Rosabella, you have made a good guess.
The Doge had scarcely ceased to speak, when Lomellino entered the room, conducting a tall young man, richly habited in the Grecian fashion.
“My gracious lord,” said Lomellino, “I present to you the Count Flodoardo, who humbly sues for your protection.”
Flodoardo uncovered his head in token of respect, took off his mask, and bowed low before the illustrious ruler of Venice.
Andreas.—I understand you are desirous of serving the Republic?
Flodoardo.—That is my ambition, should your Highness think me deserving of such an honour.
Andreas.—Lomellino speaks highly of you; if all that he says be true, how came you to deprive your own country of your services?