“Generous Camillo!”

“Be mine, and spare the cold calculators of the Senate another crime.  They think to dispose of thee, as if thou wert worthless merchandise, to their own advantage.  But thou wilt defeat their design.  I read the generous resolution in thine eye, Violetta; thou wilt manifest a will superior to their arts and egotism.”

“I would not be trafficked for, Don Camillo Monforte, but wooed and won as befitteth a maiden of my condition.  They may still leave me liberty of choice.  The Signor Gradenigo hath much encouraged me of late with this hope, when speaking of the establishment suited to my years.”

“Believe him not; a colder heart, a spirit more removed from charity, exists not in Venice.  He courts thy favor for his own prodigal son; a cavalier without honor, the companion of profligates, and the victim of the Hebrews.  Believe him not, for he is stricken in deceit.”

“He is the victim of his own designs, if this be true.  Of all the youths of Venice I esteem Giacomo Gradenigo least.”

“This interview must have an end,” said the monk, imposing effectually, and compelling the lover to rise.  “It would be easier to escape the toils of sin than to elude the agents of the police.  I tremble lest this visit should be known, for we are encircled with the ministers of the state, and not a palace in Venice is more narrowly watched than this.  Were thy presence here detected, indiscreet young man, thy youth might pine in a prison, while thou would’st be the cause of persecution and unmerited sorrow to this innocent and inexperienced maiden.”

“A prison, sayest thou, father!”

“No less, daughter.  Lighter offences are often expiated by heavier judgments, when the pleasure of the Senate is thwarted.”

“Thou must not be condemned to a prison, Camillo!”

“Fear it not.  The years and peaceful calling of the father make him timid.  I have long been prepared for this happy moment, and I ask but a single hour to put Venice and all her toils at defiance.  Give me the blessed assurance of thy truth, and confide in my means for the rest.”

“Thou nearest, Florinda!”

“This bearing is suited to the sex of Don Camillo, dearest, but it ill becometh thee.  A maiden of high quality must await the decision of her natural guardians.”

“But should that choice be Giacomo Gradenigo?”

“The Senate will not hear of it.  The arts of his father have long been known to thee; and thou must have seen, by the secresy of his own advances, that he distrusts their decision.  The state will have a care to dispose of thee as befitteth thy hopes.  Thou art sought of many, and those who guard thy fortune only await the proposals which best become thy birth.”

“Proposals that become my birth?”

“Suitable in years, condition, expectations, and character.”

“Am I to regard Don Camillo Monforte as one beneath me?”