But you can understand, perhaps--in part, Signor Giovacchino, in
part--not altogether--what I have gone through in these days. My
mind has been shaken--sadly shaken, amico mio. I shall never recover
it--never," said the Marchese, letting his head fall on his bosom.
"Nay, Signor Marchese. I would fain hope it is not so bad as all
that. Let this business of the trial be over, and the Marchese
Ludovico, as I doubt not, entirely cleared and absolved, and all
will yet go well. The rest is matter of sorrow which time may be
trusted to heal."
"The trial! Ay, the trial. When--eh?--when is it likely to come off,
Signor Giovacchino. Yes, as you say, it would be a good thing if
that were over," said the Marchese, with a manner that indicated a
high state of nervous irritability.
"It won't be long; there is little or no hope of any further light
being thrown on the matter; some day next week, I should say; I
don't think they will be longer than that; and the sooner the
better--only, that I am afraid you may find the ordeal a
disagreeable one."
"Who? I? Why should I--? That is, of course, on Ludovico's account--
"
"Excuse me, Signor Marchese; but you must feel, surely, that it will
be absolutely necessary for you to be present in court."
"I? I be present? Why, don't you see that I am unable to leave my
chamber--shall probably never leave it again; how can I be present
in court? It is out of the question.
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