How could you, dear mother, suspect this of your son? But it is true. I am to-day unusually dejected and gloomy. All that I have seen, heard or dreamt, has preached since yesterday, and before yesterday this doctrine to me--to be but one step from the goal, and not to have attained it, is in reality the same. This one idea engrosses all my thoughts. What can it mean? I understand it not.
One thought succeeds another. I am vexed--angry with my friends and with myself.
My friends absolutely require, that, before I solemnize my marriage, I should acquaint the Prince with my intentions. They allow I am not bound to do this, but maintain that respect towards him demands it; and I have been weak enough to consent. I have already ordered my carriage for the purpose.
Pirro, _afterwards_ Marinelli, Count Appiani, Claudia.
My lady, the Marquis Marinelli is at the door, and inquires for the Count.
Here his lordship comes. (_Opens the door and exit_.)
I ask pardon, madam. My lord Count, I called at your house, and was informed that I should find you here. I have important business with you. Once more pardon, madam. It will occupy but a few minutes.
I will not impede it. (_Curtseys and exit_.)
I am proud to be the bearer of this distinguished favour; and if Count Appiani will not wilfully misunderstand one of his most devoted friends----
I will. The Prince is obliged to send an ambassador immediately to the Duke of Massa respecting his marriage with the Princess his daughter. He was long undetermined whom to appoint, till his choice at last has fallen upon you, my lord.
Yes--and if friendship may be allowed to boast, I was instrumental----
Truly I am at a loss for thanks. I had long renounced the hope of being noticed by the Prince.
I am sure he only waited for a proper opportunity, and if the present mission be not sufficiently worthy of Count Appiani, I own my friendship has been too precipitate.
Friendship, friendship! every third word. With whom am I speaking? The Marquis Marinelli's friendship I never dreamt of gaining.
I acknowledge my fault, Count Appiani, my unpardonable fault in wishing to be your friend without your permission. But what of that? The favour of his Highness, and the dignity he offers, remain the same. I do not doubt you will accept them with pleasure.