JULIA. Do you talk of losing Fiesco? Good God! How could you ever conceive the ambitious idea of possessing him? Why, my child, aspire to such a height? A height where you cannot but be seen, and must come into comparison with others. Indeed, my dear, he was a knave or a fool who joined you with FIESCO. (Taking her hand with a look of compassion.) Poor soul! The man who is received in the assemblies of fashionable life could never be a suitable match for you. (She takes a dish of chocolate.) LEONORA (smiling at ARABELLA). If he were, he would not wish to mix with such assemblies. JULIA. The Count is handsome, fashionable, elegant. He is so fortunate as to have formed connections with people of rank. He is lively and high-spirited. Now, when he severs himself from these circles of elegance and refinement, and returns home warm with their impressions, what does he meet? His wife receives him with a commonplace tenderness; damps his fire with an insipid, chilling kiss, and measures out her attentions to him with a niggardly economy. Poor husband! Here, a blooming beauty smiles upon him--there he is nauseated by a peevish sensibility. Signora, signora, for God's sake consider, if he have not lost his understanding, which will he choose? LEONORA (offering her a cup of chocolate). You, madam--if he have lost it. JULIA. Good! This sting shall return into your own bosom. Tremble for your mockery! But before you tremble--blush! LEONORA. Do you then know what it is to blush, signora? But why not? 'Tis a toilet trick. JULIA. Oh, see! This poor creature must be provoked if one would draw from her a spark of wit. Well--let it pass this time. Madam, you were bitter. Give me your hand in token of reconciliation. LEONORA (offering her hand with a significant look). Countess, my anger ne'er shall trouble you. JULIA (offering her hand). Generous, indeed! Yet may I not be so, too? (Maliciously.) Countess, do you not think I must love that person whose image I bear constantly about me? LEONORA (blushing and confused). What do you say? Let me hope the conclusion is too hasty. JULIA. I think so, too. The heart waits not the guidance of the senses --real sentiment needs no breastwork of outward ornament. LEONORA. Heavens! Where did you learn such a truth? JULIA. 'Twas in mere compassion that I spoke it; for observe, madam, the reverse is no less certain. Such is Fiesco's love for you. (Gives her the picture, laughing maliciously.) LEONORA (with extreme indignation). My picture! Given to you! (Throws herself into a chair, much affected.) Cruel, Fiesco! JULIA. Have I retaliated? Have I? Now, madam, have you any other sting to wound me with? (Goes to side scene.) My carriage! My object is gained. (To LEONORA, patting her cheek.) Be comforted, my dear; he gave me the picture in a fit of madness. [Exeunt JULIA and ARABELLA. SCENE III. LEONORA, CALCAGNO entering.