beautiful Libussa. If he were so fortunate as to obtain her affections, he would immediately request her hand in marriage from the Count. ‘Good Heaven,’ said I, ‘have you then had the misfortune to lose your bride whom I saw at Venice—the Countess Apollonia?’—‘Of this I shall speak at another time,’ was his answer. ‘From the deep sigh that accompanied these words, I concluded, that the young bride had, by infidelity or some other fearful offence, been separated from the Duke, and that I must not venture to revive painful emotion by farther questioning. As he begged, meanwhile, that I would use my influence with the Count in his favour, I was obliged, however, to remind him how strange and hazardous a marriage might be considered, which was sought after on no other ground but that of the wish to efface painful impressions of an earlier and unfortunate connection. But he answered me, that I did him real injustice by the light in which I had now placed his conduct,—that he cherished the utmost respect as well as admiration towards Libussa,—and would consider himself the happiest of men if she should not reject his addresses.
