"True, Giosué; but you were not then what you have since become."
"Hear me, false one! I swear by God and his blessed saints, that the hand you promised me shall never be the prize of another. No! Maladetto! I will slay you rather!" He laughed bitterly, and spoke in a hoarse tone. "You despise me, Dianora. I am now a penniless outlaw. May our uncle, the hard-hearted bishop, whose miserly cruelty has driven me to despair——"
"O most ungrateful and unkind, Giosué! say rather your own wild and intractable spirit has occasioned your destruction——"
"And the loss of your love, Dianora?"
"Indeed, Giosué, I never could have loved you as—you would wish to be loved: but I have pitied you, wept for you, prayed for you——"
"Bless you, dear girl," replied the young man, with intense sadness; "you are very good and amiable; but I feel that love for you is making me mad!"
"Now, leave me, Giosué. Should the bishop find you here——"
"Say rather he whom you expect!" he exclaimed, bitterly and jealously. "Ha! false and fickle one! within sound of my whistle are those who in a moment would bear you off to yonder mountains in spite of all opposition, and leave in flames this villa of our dog of an uncle. But no, signora; I must have your love freely, or not at all."
"A moment ago you threatened——"
"Peace! Attempt not to stir until you have heard me. This cursed English lieutenant (ha! malediction! you see I know him), if he comes hither to-night may get a reception such as he little expects." He uttered a ferocious laugh, and struck with his hand the weapons which garnished his girdle. They clattered, and the heart of Dianora trembled between fear and indignation; for nothing rouses a young girl's spirit so much as hearing her lover spoken of lightly.