The second act was more dramatic than the first, showing Samson in his
character as a warrior, and when the curtain came down again, General
Morra, the Minister of War, visited the Princess's box.
"So you're taking lessons in the art of war from the professor who slew
an army with the jaw-bone of an ass?" said Don Camillo.
"Wish we could enlist a few thousands of him--jaw-bones as well," said
the General. "The gentleman might be worth having at the War Office, if
it was only as a jettatura." And then in a low voice to the Princess,
with a glance at Roma, "Your beautiful young friend doesn't look so well
to-night."
The Princess shrugged her shoulders. "Of the pains of love one suffers
but does not die," she whispered.
"You surely cannot mean...."
The Princess put the tip of her fan to his lips and laughed.
Roma was conscious of a strange conflict of feelings. The triumph she
had promised herself by David Rossi's presence with her in public--the
triumph over the envious ones who would have rejoiced in her
downfall--brought her no pleasure.
The third act dealt with the allurements of Delilah, and was received
with a good deal of laughter.
"Ah, these sweet, round, soft things--they can do anything they like
with the giants," said Don Camillo.
The Baron, who had dined with the King, came round at the end of the
next act, wearing a sash diagonally across his breast, with crosses,
stars, and other decorations. He bowed to David Rossi with ceremonious
politeness, greeted Don Camillo familiarly, kissed the hand of the
Princess, and offered his arm to Roma to take her into the corridor to
cool--she was flushed and overheated.
"I see you are getting on, my child! Excellent idea to bring him here!
Everybody is saying you cannot be the person he intended, so his trumpet
has brayed to no purpose."
"You received my letters?" she said in a faltering voice.
"Yes, but don't be uneasy. I'm neither the prophet nor the son of a
prophet if we are not on the right track. What a fortunate thought about
the man Minghelli! An inspiration! You asked what his fault was in
London--forgery, my dear!"
"That's serious enough, isn't it?"
"In a Secretary of Legation, yes, but in a police agent...."
He laughed significantly, and she felt her skin creep.
"Has he found out anything?" she asked.
"Not yet, but he is clearly on the track of great things. It is nearly
certain that your King David is a person wanted by the law."