"And I cursed her!" thought Eugene, "and she heard my cruel words. Oh Laura, my Laura! when will I lie at thy feet to implore forgiveness? Home," cried he aloud, to the gondoliers. Then, in a whisper, he added to Antonio, "I must speak with you as soon as we are alone."
All this time Laura lay insensible in the bucentoro, her husband gazing intently upon her pallid face. The Countess Lucretia was wearied to death with the whole performance.
"Fratillo," said she, "I hope that you have done with me, and that you intend to return with your sentimental beauty to the palace."
Without removing his eyes from Laura, Strozzi bent his head, while the countess went on:
"My gondola, your handsome present, is just behind us, and I must say that it is worthy of Aphrodite herself. Pity that no goddess should grace such a lovely sea-shell. Have I your permission to occupy it, and leave this stifling atmosphere of love?"
"Go, go," answered Strozzi, impatiently.
"Thanks!" was Lucretia's heartfelt reply; and, opening the curtains, she beckoned to her gondoliers, and stepped gracefully from the bucentoro to her own dainty bark.
"It is rather tiresome to be without company," thought she, as she was rowed away; "but solitude is better than concealment behind those hateful curtains of Ottario's. I wonder who is the handsome cavalier that seemed to be struck with me a while ago? One of the foreign princes, I imagine, for he had a star on his breast. Ah!— There he is, staring at me with all the power of his splendid eyes."
And the beautiful Lucretia, pretending not to see the elector, sank gracefully back among her white satin cushions.
"Row toward the piazetta," said she to her gondoliers, "but go in a direction contrary to that taken by yonder large gondola filled with cavaliers."