Odo saw his words reflected in the wavering glow of Fulvia's cheek; but
almost at once she regained control of her pulses and faced him with
that serenity which seemed to come to her at such moments.
"What you say might be true," she answered, "were your opportunities
indeed restricted to the regency. But the little prince's life is known
to hang on a thread: at any moment you may be Duke. And you will not
deny that as Duke of Pianura you can serve your people better than as an
obscure pamphleteer in Paris."
Odo made an impatient gesture. "Are you so sure?" he said. "Even as Duke
I must be the puppet of powers greater than myself--of Austria, of Rome,
nay, of the wealthy nobles who will always league themselves with their
sovereign's enemies rather than suffer a hand upon their privileges. And
even if I were fortunate enough to outwit my masters and rule indeed,
over what a toy kingdom should I reign! How small a number would be
benefited! How little the cause would be helped by my example! As an
obscure pamphleteer I might reach the hearts of thousands and speak to
great kings on their thrones; as Duke of Pianura, fighting single-handed
to reform the laws of my little state, I should rank at best with the
other petty sovereigns who are amusing themselves all over Italy with
agricultural experiments and improved methods of cheese-making."
Again the brightness shone in Fulvia's face. "How you love me!" she said
as he paused; and went on, restraining him with a gesture of the
gentlest dignity: "For it is love that speaks thus in you and not
reason; and you know as I do that the duty to which a man is born comes
before any of his own choosing.
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