It was not that he had any plan in his head; but he was fired with a conviction that somehow this chosen woman was not to be wasted, that some day, released by some means in spite of all the pressure English Ministers could bring upon the Emperor, she would come riding into Bologna.
The Chevalier paused in his walk and looked towards the Cardinal.
"What does your Eminence say ?" "That to the old the impulsiveness of youth is eternally charming," said the Cardinal, with a foppish delicacy of speaking in an odd contrast to his person.
Mr.Wogan understood that he had a second antagonist.
"I am not a youth, your Eminence," he exclaimed with all the indignation of twenty-seven years.

"I am a man." "But an Irishman, and that spells youth.

You write poetry too, I believe, Mr.Wogan.It is a heady practice." Wogan made no answer, though the words stung.

An argument with the Cardinal would be sure to ruin his chance of obtaining the Chevalier's consent.

He merely bowed to the Cardinal and waited for the Chevalier to speak.
"Look you, Mr.Wogan; while the Emperor's at war with Spain, while England's fleet could strip him of Sicily, he's England's henchman.