“The meanest cottage of the countryside were lordship enough so that you shared it,” I answered passionately, as many in like case have answered before and since.
“You see, then, that you are wrong to attach importance to so slight a thing as this Imperial decree where you and I are concerned. Can an Imperial decree annul my marriage?”
“For that a papal bull would be necessary.”
“And how is a papal bull to be obtained?”
“It is not for us,” I admitted miserably.
“I have been wicked,” she said, her eyes upon the ground, a faint colour stirring in her cheeks. “I have prayed that the usurper might be dispossessed of his rights in me. I have prayed that when the attack was made and revolt was carried into the Citadel of Piacenza, Cosimo d'Anguissola might stand at his usual post beside the Duke and might fall with him. Surely justice demanded it!” she cried out. “God's justice, as well as man's. His act in marrying me was a defilement of one of the holiest of sacraments, and for that he should surely be punished and struck down!”
I went upon my knees to her. “Dear love!” I cried. “See, I have you daily in my sight. Let me not be ungrateful for so much.”
She took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes, saying no word. Then she leaned forward, and very gently touched my forehead with her lips.
“God pity us a little, Agostino,” she murmured, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“The fault is mine—all mine!” I denounced myself. “We are being visited with my sins. When I can take you for my own—if that blessed day should ever dawn—I shall know that I have attained to pardon, that I am cleansed and worthy of you at last.”