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 awaited him: with what front then could he appear in the presence of one so generous, and whom he had so deeply injured!

His troops, dwindled to one-half, had totally dispersed, after their claims had been satisfied by the Duke of Urbino, and we next find our hero, honoured by King Francis, beloved by Frangipani, and esteemed by the Spanish commanders, at Madrid, whither the King of France had been conveyed at his own request, because he hoped much from a personal interview with his conqueror. The more Frangipani attached himself to Camillo, whose ardent spirit seemed to delight him, the more the astonishment of the young man at the count’s conduct was converted into admiration of him. Such noble pride, such constancy of attachment, such determined perseverance in that which was once for all acknowledged to be just and right, he had never yet found combined in any individual. It is the fair side of youth, that, quickly discerning excellence, it feels itself powerfully attracted by it, and cheerfully and wholly resigns itself to its influence. Such too was the case with Camillo; he conceived the warmest affection for the generous man, who so kindly met every advance of his young friend. But the higher Camillo found himself raised by so many honourable distinctions, the more he felt it out of his power to reveal to him the dreadful secret,