“Keep the angels for Paradise, and beware of taking them into consideration in this working-day world.  I have often told you, my boy, that I am older than you.”

“As if I doubted that!” he laughed.

“Very well.  I know something about women.  A hundred women will tell you that they are ready to flee with you; but not more than one in the hundred will really leave everything and follow you to the end of the world when the moment comes for running away.  They always make a fuss at the last and say it is too dangerous, and you may be caught.  That is the way of them.  You will be quite ready with a ladder of ropes, like one of Boccaccio’s men, and a roll of banknotes for the journey, and smelling-salts, and a cushion for the puppy dog, and a separate conveyance for the maid, just according to the directions she has given you; then, at the very last, she will perhaps say that she is afraid of hurting her father’s feelings by leaving him without any warning.  Be careful, Nino!”

“As for that,” he answered, sullenly enough, “if she will not, she will not; and I would not attempt to persuade her against her inclination.  But unless you have very much exaggerated what you saw in her face, she will be ready at five minutes’ notice.  It must be very like hell up there in that castle, I should think.”

“Messer Diavolo, who rules over the house, will not let his prey escape him so easily as you think.”

“Her father?” he asked.

“No; Benoni.  There is no creature so relentless as an old man in pursuit of a young woman.”

“I am not afraid of Benoni.”

“You need not be afraid of her father,” said I, laughing.  “He is lame, and cannot run after you.”  I do not know why it is that we Romans laugh at lame people; we are sorry for them, of course, as we are for other cripples.

“There is something more than fear in the matter,” said Nino, seriously.  “It is a great thing to have upon one’s soul.”

“What?” I asked.

“To take a daughter away from her father without his consent,—­or at least without consulting him.  I would not like to do it.”

“Do you mean to ask the old gentleman’s consent before eloping with his daughter?  You are a little donkey, Nino, upon my word.”

“Donkey, or anything else you like, but I will act like a galantuomo.  I will see the count, and ask him once more whether he is willing to let his daughter marry me.  If not, so much the worse; he will be warned.”

“Look here, Nino,” I said, astonished at the idea.  “I have taught you a little logic.  Suppose you meant to steal a horse instead of a woman.  Would you go to the owner of the horse, with your hat in your hand, and say, ’I trust your worship will not be offended if I steal this horse, which seems to be a good animal and pleases me’; and then would you expect him to allow you to steal his horse?”

“Sor Cornelio, the case is not the same.  Women have a right to be free, and to marry whom they please; but horses are slaves.  However, as I am not a thief, I would certainly ask the man for the horse; and if he refused it, and I conceived that I had a right to have it, I would take it by force and not by stealth.”