image of good Alfonso: has not your highness remarked it?”
“Yes, yes,—no,—thou torturest me,” said Manfred: “where did they meet? when?”
“Who? my Lady Matilda?” said Bianca.
“No, no, not Matilda; Isabella. When did Isabella first become acquainted with this Theodore?”
“Virgin Mary!” said Bianca, “how should I know?”
“Thou dost know,” said Manfred, “and I must know; I will.”
“Lord! your highness is not jealous of young Theodore!” said Bianca.
“Jealous! no, no: why should I be jealous? perhaps I mean to unite them, if I were sure Isabella would have no repugnance.”
“Repugnance! no, I’ll warrant her,” said Bianca: “he is as comely a youth as ever trod on Christian ground. We are all in love with him; there is not a soul in the castle but would be rejoiced to have him for our prince—I mean, when it shall please Heaven to call your highness to itself.”
“Indeed,” said Manfred, “has it gone so far? oh, this cursed friar! but I must not lose time:—go, Bianca, attend Isabella; but I charge thee, not a word of what has passed. Find out how she is affected towards Theodore: bring me good news, and that ring has a companion. Wait at the foot of the winding staircase: I am going to visit the marquis, and will talk further with thee at my return.”
Manfred, after some general conversation, desired Frederic to dismiss the two knights his companions, having to talk with him on urgent affairs. As soon as they were alone, he began, in artful guise, to sound the marquis on the subject of Matilda; and finding him disposed to his wish, he let drop hints on the difficulties that would attend the celebration of their marriage, unless—At that instant Bianca burst into the room with a wildness in her look and gestures that spoke the utmost terror.
“Oh, my lord, my lord!” cried she; “we are all undone! it is come again! it is come again!”
“What is come again?” cried Manfred, amazed.
“Oh, the hand! the giant! the hand!—support me! I am terrified out of my senses,” cried Bianca; “I will not sleep in the castle to-night. Where shall I go? my things may come after me to-morrow—would I had been content to wed Francesco!—this comes of ambition.”
“What has terrified thee thus, young woman?” said the marquis. “Thou art safe here; be not alarmed.”
“Oh, your greatness is wonderfully good,” said Bianca, “but I dare not—no, pray let me go. I had rather leave everything behind me, than stay another hour under this roof.”
“Go to, thou hast lost thy senses,” said Manfred. “Interrupt us not; we were communing on important matters. My lord, this wench is subject to fits. Come with me, Bianca.”
“Oh, the saints, no,” said Bianca; “for certain it comes to warn your highness: why should it appear to me else? I say my prayers morning and evening. Oh, if your highness had believed Diego! ’Tis the same hand that he saw the foot to in the gallery chamber. Father Jerome has often told us the prophecy would be out one of these days. ‘Bianca,’ said he, ‘mark my words——’”
“Thou ravest,” said Manfred in a rage! “begone, and keep these fooleries to frighten thy companions.”
“What, my lord!” cried Bianca, “do you think I have seen nothing? Go to the foot of the great stairs yourself—as I live I saw it.”
“Saw what? Tell us, fair maid, what thou hast seen,” said Frederic.
“Can your highness listen,” said Manfred, “to the delirium of a silly wench, who has heard stories of apparitions until she believes them?”
“This is more than fancy,” said the marquis; “her terror is too natural and too strongly impressed to be the work of imagination. Tell us, fair maiden, what it is has moved thee thus.”
“Yes, my lord, thank your greatness,” said Bianca. “I believe I look very pale; I shall be better when I have recovered myself. I was going to my Lady Isabella’s chamber by his highness’s order——”
“We do not want the circumstances,” interrupted Manfred. “Since his highness will have it so, proceed; but be brief.”
“Lord! your highness thwarts one so!” replied Bianca. “I fear my hair—I am sure I never in my life—well, as I was telling your greatness, I was going, by his highness’s order, to my Lady Isabella’s chamber. She lies in the watchet-coloured chamber, on the right hand, one pair of stairs. So when I came to the great stairs, I was looking on his highness’s present here——”
“Grant me patience!” said Manfred; “will this wench never come to the point? What imports it to the marquis, that I gave thee a bauble for thy faithful attendance on my daughter; we want to know what thou sawest.”
“I was going to tell your highness,” said Bianca, “if you would permit me. So as I was rubbing the ring—I am sure I had not gone up three steps, but I heard the rattling of armour; for all the world such a clatter, as Diego says he heard when the giant turned him about in the gallery-chamber.”
“What does she mean, my lord?” said the marquis: “is your castle haunted by giants and goblins?”
“Lord, what, has not your greatness heard the story of the giant in the gallery-chamber?” cried Bianca. “I marvel his highness has not told you—mayhap you do not know there is a prophecy——”
“This trifling is intolerable,” interrupted Manfred. “Let us dismiss this silly wench, my lord; we have more important affairs to discuss.”
“By your favour,” said Frederic, “these are no trifles. The enormous sabre I was directed to in the wood, yon casque, its fellow—are these visions of this poor maiden’s brain?”
“So Jaquez thinks, may it please your greatness,” said Bianca. “He says this moon will not be out without our seeing some strange revolution. For my part, I should not be surprised if it was to happen to-morrow; for, as I was saying, when I heard the clattering of armour, I was all in a cold sweat: I looked up, and, if your greatness will believe me, I saw upon the uppermost banister of the great stairs a hand in armour, as big, as big—I thought I should have swooned—I never stopped until I came hither. Would I were well out of this castle! My Lady Matilda told me but yester-morning that her highness Hippolita knows something.”
“Thou art an insolent!” cried Manfred. “Lord Marquis, it much misgives me that this scene is concerted to affront me. Are my own domestics suborned to spread tales injurious to my honour? Pursue your claim by manly daring; or let us bury our feuds, as was proposed, by the intermarriage of our children. But trust me, it ill becomes a prince of your bearing to practise on mercenary wenches.”
“I scorn your imputation,” said Frederic: “until this hour I never set eyes on this damsel. I have given her no jewel! My lord, my lord, your conscience, your guilt accuses you, and would throw the suspicion on me; but keep your daughter, and think no more of Isabella. The judgments already fallen on your house forbid me matching into it.”
Manfred, alarmed at the resolute tone in which Frederic delivered these words, endeavoured to pacify him. Dismissing Bianca, he made such submissions to the marquis, and threw in such artful encomiums on Matilda, that Frederic was once more staggered. However, as his passion was of so recent a date, it could not at once surmount the scruples he had conceived. He had gathered enough from Bianca’s discourse to persuade him that Heaven declared itself against Manfred. The proposed marriages, too, removed his claim to a distance; and the principality of Otranto was a stronger temptation than the contingent reversion of it with Matilda. Still he would not absolutely recede from his engagements; but purposing to gain time, he demanded of Manfred if it was true in fact that Hippolita consented to the divorce. The prince, transported to find no other obstacle, and depending on his influence over his wife, assured the marquis it was so,