At that he turned to the page who followed in obedience to his command.
"Begone!" he growled at the lad, "I will have Boccadoro, there, to help me arm." And with a poor attempt at mirth--"The act is a madness," he muttered, "and so it is fitting that folly should put on my armour for it.

Come with me, you," he bade me, and I, obediently, gladly, went forward and up the wide stone staircase after him, leaving the page to speculate as he listed on the matter of his abrupt dismissal.
I read the Lord Giovanni's motives, as clearly as if they had been written for me by his own hand.

The opinion in which I might hold him was to him a matter of so small account that he little cared that I should be the witness of the weakness which he feared was about to overcome him--nay, which had overcome him already.

Was I not the one man in Pesaro who already knew his true nature, as revealed by that matter of the verses which I had written, and of which he had assumed the authorship?
He had no shame before me, for I already knew the very worst of him, and he was confident that I would not talk lest he should destroy me at my first word.

And yet, there was more than that in his motive for choosing me to go with him in that hour, as I was to learn once we were closeted in his chamber.
"Boccadoro," he cried, "can you not find me some way out of this ?" Under his beard I saw the quiver of his lips as he put the question.
"Out of this ?" I echoed, scarce understanding him at first.
"Aye, man--out of this Castle, out of Pesaro.