“Certainly,” said the magistrate, “if the old sorceress was right in one thing, she ought to be in the other. I will answer, from experience, how powerful is wealth in conquering any resistance.”
“And you will allow, too,” rejoined Corvinus, “from the enumeration we have made, that among the competitors for Fabiola’s hand, there has not been one who could not justly be rather called an aspirant after her fortune.”
“Yourself included, my dear Corvinus.”
“Yes, so far: but not if I succeed in offering her, with myself, the lady Agnes’s great wealth.”
“And in a manner too, methinks, that will more easily gain upon what I hear of her generous and lofty disposition. Giving her that wealth independent of conditions, and then offering yourself to her, will put her under one of two obligations, either to accept you as her husband, or throw you back the fortune.”
“Admirable, father! I never saw the second alternative before. Do you think there is no possibility of securing it except through her?”
“None whatever. Fulvius, of course, will apply for his share; and the probability is, that the emperor will declare he intends to take it all for himself. For he hates Fulvius. But if I propose a more popular and palpably reasonable plan, of giving the property to the nearest relation, who worships the gods—this Fabiola does, don’t she?”
“Certainly, father.”
“I think he will embrace it: while I am sure there is no chance of his making a free gift to me. The proposal from a judge would enrage him.”
“Then how will you manage it, father?”