impossible, Madam, that I can thus easily resign the object of
a passion, which is the delight and torment of my life.--I must still
love--still pursue you with unremitting ardour;--when you shall be
convinced of the strength and constancy of my passion, your heart must
soften into pity and repentance.'

'Is this generous, sir? is this manly? can it either deserve or obtain
the esteem you solicit, thus to continue a persecution from which I have
no present means of escaping?'

A gleam of moonlight that fell upon Morano's countenance, revealed the
strong emotions of his soul; and, glancing on Montoni discovered the
dark resentment, which contrasted his features.

'By heaven this is too much!' suddenly exclaimed the Count; 'Signor
Montoni, you treat me ill; it is from you that I shall look for
explanation.'

'From me, sir! you shall have it;' muttered Montoni, 'if your
discernment is indeed so far obscured by passion, as to make explanation
necessary. And for you, Madam, you should learn, that a man of honour is
not to be trifled with, though you may, perhaps, with impunity, treat a
BOY like a puppet.'

This sarcasm roused the pride of Morano, and the resentment which he
had felt at the indifference of Emily, being lost in indignation of the
insolence of Montoni, he determined to mortify him, by defending her.

'This also,' said he, replying to Montoni's last words, 'this also,
shall not pass unnoticed. I bid you learn, sir, that you have a stronger
enemy than a woman to contend with: I will protect Signora St. Aubert
from your threatened resentment. You have misled me, and would revenge
your disappointed views upon the innocent.'

'Misled you!' retorted Montoni with quickness, 'is my conduct--my
word'--then pausing, while he seemed endeavouring to restrain the
resentment, that flashed in his eyes, in the next moment he added, in a
subdued voice, 'Count Morano, this is a language, a sort of conduct to
which I am not accustomed: it is the conduct of a passionate boy--as
such, I pass it over in contempt.'

'In contempt, Signor?'

'The respect I owe myself,' rejoined Montoni, 'requires, that I should
converse more largely with you upon some points of the subject in
dispute. Return with me to Venice, and I will condescend to convince you
of your error.'

'Condescend, sir! but I will not condescend to be so conversed with.'

Montoni smiled contemptuously; and Emily, now terrified for the
consequences of what she