The soldier seized Valentine's wrist and forced her, still reluctant, from the room. She was conquered, not subdued.
"If Graziosa dies," said Visconti, turning to Giannotto, "she does not live either. You have heard me say it.—She and her woman's venom!" he continued, pacing the room furiously. "I should have swept her away sooner—I would now but for the French, and the French shall not save her the next time. He is a fool, Giannotto, who thinks that because a woman is a prisoner she is powerless—let him remember her tongue."
"My lord, she may have thought the lady knew," faltered Giannotto.
"Silence!" cried Visconti. "She may have thought I wanted to give Isotta d'Este her liberty! Ah, let her beware! Graziosa, too; why did she not tell her that she lied? Had I not said he lived? Has she no spirit—no dignity—to shame me by her silence and her moans!"
The secretary ventured on no reply. He fumbled with the parchments on the table and drew one forward. Visconti's glance fell on it and his rage calmed instantly; his eyes flashed with a changed expression.
"These are the terms we sent to Della Scala?" he asked, with a sudden smile.
"Yes, my lord; terms I think that cannot fail."
The Duke sat silent a while, and the smile deepened to a laugh.
"I disturb myself for a woman's quarrels," he said at last, "and am on the eve of winning Lombardy!"
"The Estes may already have detached themselves from Della Scala, my lord," said the secretary.