He, Guido, like Tristram, would in a short space clasp the gemmed necklace round the throat of one as fair and false as the fabled Iseulte, and I--should I figure as the wronged king?
How does the English laureate put it in his idyl on the subject?
"'Mark's way,' said Mark, and clove him through the brain." Too sudden and sweet a death by far for such a traitor! The Cornish king should have known how to torture his betrayer! I knew--and I meditated deeply on every point of my design, as I sat alone for an hour after Ferrari had left me.

I had many things to do--I had resolved on making myself a personage of importance in Naples, and I wrote several letters and sent out visiting-cards to certain well-established families of distinction as necessary preliminaries to the result I had in view.

That day, too, I engaged a valet--a silent and discreet Tuscan named Vincenzo Flamma.

He was an admirably trained servant--he never asked questions--was too dignified to gossip, and rendered me instant and implicit obedience--in fact he was a gentleman in his way, with far better manners than many who lay claim to that title.

He entered upon his duties at once, and never did I know him to neglect the most trifling thing that could add to my satisfaction or comfort.