"I beg you, Leone, be sensible. Don't be a fool. I'm in a strange mood. In all my life I have never had such a feeling in my breast. Leone, it's as if—Leone, all day and all night I have such strange thoughts. Leone, be prepared, perhaps you will soon take over from me as captain of the Andrea Doria…"
"And you'll be a rear admiral to Federigo Spinola."
"Or a corpse at the bottom of the sea," murmured the captain.
"What? Thoughts of death? Thoughts of death under the window of the girl of your dreams?" laughed the lieutenant. "By all that's holy, that's a splendid thought. Would that I were Petrarch to compose a sonnet on this wonderful mood. Look, you dreamer, here we are directly under the window of your beloved—her light is still shining—what a thought! Antonio Valani, friend of my youth, to scare away your intimations of mortality, let's now, right this minute, pay a visit to the sweet child who lives up there."
"Leone!"
"Let's search her house. All mad ideas would be most welcome!
Forward in the name of the king! Forward in the name of love!"
"Leone! Leone!"
"Let me be," snorted the lieutenant. "I ask you, can the beggar that these boorish fellows are looking for not just as easily have crept into the lodging of the little one as into any of the other houses of this town? Forward, Antonio, you worry too much. We'll carry out a house search of your fair beloved's and familiarize ourselves thereby with the position of the house for tomorrow night."
Before the captain could hold his wild friend back, the latter had dashed to Myga's door against which he pounded with his fist, calling out in a loud voice:
"Open up! Open up! Open in the name of His Catholic Majesty of Spain! Open up! Traitors and enemies have sought shelter in this house!"