"Does he intend to have my brother's body interred privately in the
chapel?"

"Oh, Madam!" said Bianca, "now I guess. As you are become his
heiress, he is impatient to have you married: he has always been
raving for more sons; I warrant he is now impatient for grandsons.
As sure as I live, Madam, I shall see you a bride at last.--Good
madam, you won't cast off your faithful Bianca: you won't put
Donna Rosara over me now you are a great Princess."

"My poor Bianca," said Matilda, "how fast your thoughts amble! I a
great princess! What hast thou seen in Manfred's behaviour since
my brother's death that bespeaks any increase of tenderness to me?
No, Bianca; his heart was ever a stranger to me--but he is my
father, and I must not complain. Nay, if Heaven shuts my father's
heart against me, it overpays my little merit in the tenderness of
my mother--O that dear mother! yes, Bianca, 'tis there I feel the
rugged temper of Manfred. I can support his harshness to me with
patience; but it wounds my soul when I am witness to his causeless
severity towards her."

"Oh! Madam," said Bianca, "all men use their wives so, when they
are weary of them."

"And yet you congratulated me but now," said Matilda, "when you
fancied my father intended to dispose of me!"

"I would have you a great Lady," replied Bianca, "come what will.
I do not wish to see you moped in a convent, as you would be if you
had your will, and if my Lady, your mother, who knows that a bad