Part 33 (1/2)
”The devil!” said Duke Borso.
”Madonna,” was his second venture, when he had recognised the impropriety of his first, ”Madonna, I am this moment about to retire--”
Angioletto, whose eyes had attained their fullest stretch of wonder, opened his mouth--but not to speak. He gaped at the lord of the land.
”Madonna--” Borso began once more. Then the other found his voice--
”Alas, my lord Duke, it is Madonna I thought to find. Where is my wife?”
That was Borso's cue to stare.
”Your wife?” he cried, ”your wife! Heaven above us, man, why the devil should your wife be in my bed?”
Angioletto, with the deepest respect always, suffered a smile to play askew about his lips.
”Alas, Magnificence,” he said, ”if I dared I would ask him, why the devil he should be in my wife's bed?”
It was the youth's way to preface his audacities by the a.s.surance that he dared not utter them. But the retort pleased Borso. His eyes began to twinkle.
”Look ye, young gentleman,” said he, suppressing his wish to chuckle, ”if this is your wife's bed, I am sorry for you, for I give you my word she has not been in it to-night. But I confess I should like to know why your wife has a bed in my house.”
Angioletto nodded gravely.
”I should be the last person to deny your Grace's right to all information. Bellaroba is my dear wife's name, her country is Venice, her duties are to be about Madama Lionella's person. My own duties are to be about hers, so far as I may.”
”Fair and softly, my friend,” said the Duke, ”not so fast, if you please. Do you know that Maids of Honour may not marry without permission, and, in any case, may not be visited by their husbands during their service?”
”Magnificence, she was not married without permission. Or rather, she was married before permission was needed.”
”Eh, how may that be now?” said Borso, tucking in his chin. ”Did she come here as Signora Qualcosa?”
”She came here as Bellaroba, Magnificence. No one knows of our marriage but your Grace and the Holy Virgin.”
”Then you are not married, but should be. That is your meaning--eh?”
”Ah, by Heaven, Magnificence,” cried Angioletto, ”we are the most married couple in the world!”
”H'm,” was all Borso had to say to that. ”And who made her of Madama's Court?”
”It was your Grace.”
”Oh, of course, of course, man! But why the deuce did I do it?”
”It was at the request of Count Guarino Guarini, Magnificence?”
”Eh, eh! now I recollect. Ah, to be sure! That must be a very agreeable reflection for you at this moment, my friend,” he said, with a sly look.
Angioletto took the equivoque with dignity, ”I have perfect confidence in my wife, my lord Duke.”
Borso shrugged. ”Well, it is your affair--not mine,” he said. Then he changed his tone. ”I think, however, we will come back to what is my affair as well as yours. Be so good as to tell me how you came here.”
”I came down the chimney,” said Angioletto calmly. ”I am by calling a chimney-sweep.”