at this genuine tribute to her charms.

When they had looked at one another so some time, and she saw Gerard's
eloquence was confined to ejaculating and gazing, she spoke. "Well,
Gerardo, thou seest I have made myself an antique monster for thee."

"A monster? I doubt Fra Colonna would fall down and adore your highness,
seeing you so habited."

"Nay, I care not to be adored by an old man. I would liever be loved by
a young one: of my own choosing."

Gerard took out his pencils, arranged his canvas, which he had covered
with stout paper, and set to work; and so absorbed was he that he had
no mercy on his model. At last, after near an hour in one posture,
"Gerardo," said she faintly, "I can stand so no more, even for thee."

"Sit down and rest awhile, Signora."

"I thank thee," said she; and sinking into a chair turned pale and
sighed.

Gerard was alarmed, and saw also he had been inconsiderate. He took
water from the fountain and was about to throw it in her face; but she
put up a white hand deprecatingly: "Nay, hold it to my brow with thine
hand: prithee, do not fling it at me!"

Gerard timidly and hesitating applied his wet hand to her brow.

"Ah!" she sighed, "that is reviving. Again."

He applied it again. She thanked him, and asked him to ring a little
hand-bell on the table. He did so, and a maid came, and was sent to
Floretta with orders to bring a large fan.

Floretta speedily came with the fan.

She no sooner came near the princess, than that lady's highbred nostrils
suddenly expanded like a bloodhorse's. "Wretch!" said she; and rising
up with a sudden return to vigour, seized Floretta with her left hand,
twisted it in her hair, and with the right hand boxed her ears severely
three times.

Floretta screamed and blubbered; but obtained no mercy.

The antique toga left quite disengaged a bare arm, that now seemed as
powerful as it was beautiful: it rose and fell like the piston of a
modern steam-engine, and heavy slaps resounded one after another on
Floretta's shoulders; the last one drove her sobbing and screaming
through the curtain, and there she was heard crying bitterly for some
time after.

"Saints of heaven!" cried Gerard, "what is amiss? what has she done?"

"She knows right well. 'Tis not the first time. The nasty toad! I'll
learn her to come to me stinking of the musk-cat."

"Alas! Signora, 'twas a small fault, methinks."

"A small fault? Nay, 'twas a foul fault." She added with an