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To give the hero of the day a prize
Beyond his hard-earned laurels; in his cap,
With fond delight, Geraldi placed the rose.
Angelo.
Would, like the flowers that grow on Alpine cliffs,
It had the power to blast him. Veronica!
Oh, Veronica! in thy sunny smile
I had forgotten all my miseries!
I loved her with a mad idolatry,
That would have sacrificed eternal life
To win a sweet return; the cold, proud girl,
With contumelious scorn refused my suit,
Glanced at my late disgraces, and to gall
My rankling wound with venom sharp
As poison from the desert serpent's tooth,
Bestowed her fond affection—pledged her hand
To my detested rival——Agony!
Geral——Geraldi Sforza!——
