endants of the ancient Romans. Here he step
grew quicker and more light; brighter, if less solemn, thoughts crowded
upon his breast; and ambition, lulled for a moment, left his strained
and over-laboured mind to the reign of a softer passion.

Chapter 1.XI. Nina di Raselli.

"I tell you, Lucia, I do not love those stuffs; they do not become me.
Saw you ever so poor a dye?--this purple, indeed! that crimson! Why did
you let the man leave them? Let him take them elsewhere tomorrow.
They may suit the signoras on the other side the Tiber, who imagine
everything Venetian must be perfect; but I, Lucia, I see with my own
eyes, and judge from my own mind."

"Ah, dear lady," said the serving-maid, "if you were, as you doubtless
will be, some time or other, a grand signora, how worthily you would
wear the honours! Santa Cecilia! No other dame in Rome would be looked
at while the Lady Nina were by!"

"Would we not teach them what pomp was?" answered Nina. "Oh! what
festivals would we hold! Saw you not from the gallery the revels given
last week by the Lady Giulia Savelli?"

"Ay, signora; and when you walked up the hall in your silver and pearl
tissue, there ran such a murmur through the gallery; every one cried,
'The Savelli have entertained an angel!'"

"Pish! Lucia; no flattery, girl."

"It is naked truth, lady. But that was a revel, was it not? There was
grandeur!--fifty servitors in scarlet and gold! and the music playing
all the while. The minstrels were sent for from Bergamo. Did not that
festival please you? Ah, I warrant many were the fine speeches made to
you that day!"

"Heigho!--no, there was one voice wanting, and all the music was marred.
But, girl, were I the Lady Giulia, I would not have been contented with
so poor a revel."

"How, poor! Why all the nobles say it outdid the proudest marriage-feast
of the Colonna. Nay, a Neapolitan who sat next me, and who had served
under the young Queen Joanna, at her marriage, says, that even Naples
was outshone."

"That may be. I know nought of Naples; but I know what my court should
have been, were I what--what I am not, and may never be! The banquet
vessels should have been of gold; the cups jewelled to the brim; not
an inch of the rude pavement should have been visible; all should
have glowed with cloth of gold. The fountain in the court should have
showered up the perfumes of the East; my pages should not have been
rough youths, blushing at their own uncouthn