That circle round the sun. Her matchless form,
Her faultless lineaments, fair and delicate,
As sculptured goddesses, yet breathing life
In sighs of melting sweetness, charm the heart,
The eye, the soul of man.
Angelo.
True, true, Carlotti,—
Thou hast described her well.
Carlotti.
To-day, my Lord,
Beside the Princess Isabel, she stood
Amid the fairest of the court, but far
Surpassing all; lovely, and young, and gay,
As the first Helen, when in innocence
She dwelt beneath her father's roof, nor dreamed
That charms have fatal influence. A rose,
But yielding in its beauty to herself,
Decked her white breast; and this, as Sforza passed,
She flung to him, with such a tender air,
So sweet, so delicate, bashful, yet proud,
