OR, THE ANGEL OF VENICE 
19 
 
Under the Doge’s seal the order for your death. 
Count Mortadello begged the favour on his knees. 
(You may divine who egged him on to’t, if you please). 
Yes, Mortadello, schooled to order, not to pray ! 
But he was overruled ;  my counsel, you may say. 
MONICA.  I thank you sir. 
GABRIELE. 
 
We launch an Argo of goodwill ; 
So here’s the olive-branch ;  I bear it in my bill. 
MONICA.  Sir, I accept.  This hand in innocence and truth 
Takes yours.  Superbly planned your subtlety, in sooth. 
GABRIELE.  You say so.  You must flatter.  But thus my 
wisdom clinches 
The bargain—a small matter. 
MONICA. 
 Ah !  here’s where the shoe pinches ! 
GABRIELE.  Subtlest of spirits !  Yet your foot’s so soft and 
small 
That I am free to bet it will not pinch at all. 
It is but this :  next week sees Mortadello wed. 
You will be kind to speak—few words, but friendly said, 
And in St. Mark’s, at Countess Magdalena’s side, 
You cancel your account in giving him his bride. 
ORLANDO.  God’s wounds ! 
MONICA. 
 Forgive my friend ;  he is distraught. 
GABRIELE. 
 
I weigh 
His words :  I comprehend more than I care to say. 
[To ORLANDO.]  Be of good cheer, in sooth ;  there’s much in 
what they say. 
Though love runs rarely smooth, yet love will find a 
way. 
[To  MONICA.]  And so farewell. 
MONICA. 
Farewell ! . . . One word.  Would it accord