"She is one woman—how many as fair and good as she will perish if Della Scala betrays Lombardy! She is one woman against the fate of half Italy."
"She is my wife!" cried Della Scala desperately; "that one woman is my wife! Thou hast forgotten!"
"Forget it too, my lord; for your own honor's sake, forget it too."
"Ligozzi, Ligozzi," whispered Mastino, "thou canst not mean it: deliver up to die by Visconti's hands the woman I—love!"
"If they hanged her from the ramparts where I must watch her die, they should not move me," said Ligozzi grimly. "But—by all the saints, I would take my revenge."
"Aye!" said Della Scala bitterly. "But perchance it would not be given thee to take revenge—perchance thou wouldst fall lower and lower, and be crushed after all and have gained nothing! Ah, Ligozzi, is this the beginning? Have I not pitted courage and high purpose, and honorable dealing and a righteous cause, against craft and cruelty and force? And to what end? Visconti triumphs. Always Visconti! What availed honor and faith when Visconti's cunning and Count Conrad's folly made the plans of weeks naught! Again, undaunted, I said I will succeed in the face of failure, I will succeed! What happened? Visconti had a handsome face; what mattered it his cause was bad? Again we failed! And what since! Half my men are dead against the walls of Milan! And now, am I to choose again what thou callest honor, am I to leave Isotta to die by his dishonoring hands—oh, canst thou think of it!—and then be crushed at his leisure for all my reward? Am I so tied by tradition as that? Does not Visconti fling all laws, all humanity, all honor to the winds—can I fight him within the bounds of a boy's code of honor? The time comes, Ligozzi, when such things hold one no longer—the soul thrusts them asunder and does what it must, regardless of the laws of men! I must save her. Here is my chance and, fair or foul, I take it. I cannot think of the welfare of unknown thousands; what are they to me? Cities pass under Visconti's rule and cities are snatched from him—am I responsible for the fate of Lombardy? Men fight, betray, deceive and lie for wealth, ambition, and revenge—and common folk pay the price—shall I consider it too closely if they suffer once in a cause like mine? I tell thee, Ligozzi, I would hold it cheap to save her from Visconti with the misery of all Italy."
Ligozzi's eyes did not move from Della Scala's face.
"Thou art striving to blind thyself, Della Scala. Oh, my lord," he resumed, "because others are dishonorable will ye be so also? And what do ye say of common folk?—not common folk alone will ye sacrifice, but d'Este——"
"He has helped me half-heartedly—and is she not his daughter? Yet at a word from Visconti he would league with him behind my back," cried Della Scala.