Book The First - Chapter 8 The Conspiracy

"Confusion!" exclaimed Parozzi, a Venetian nobleman of the first
rank, as he paced his chamber with a disordered air on the morning
after Matteo's murder; "now all curses light upon the villain's
awkwardness; yet it seems inconceivable to me how all this should
have fallen out so untowardly. Has any one discovered my designs?
I know well that Verrino loves Rosabella. Was it he who opposed
this confounded Abellino to Matteo, and charged him to mar my plans
against her? That seems likely; and now, when the Doge inquires who
it was that employed assassins to murder his niece, what other will
be suspected than Parozzi, the discontented lover, to whom Rosabella
refused her hand, and whom Andreas hates past hope of
reconciliation? And now, having once found the scent--Parozzi!
Parozzi! should the crafty Andreas get an insight into your plans,
should he learn that you have placed yourself at the head of a troop
of hare-brained youths--hare-brained may I well call children--who,
in order to avoid the rod, set fire to their paternal mansions.
Parozzi, should all this be revealed to Andreas--?"

Here his reflections were interrupted. Memmo, Falieri, and
Contarino entered the room, three young Venetians of the highest
rank, Parozzi's inseparable companions, men depraved both in mind
and body, spendthrifts, voluptuaries, well known to every usurer in
Venice, and owing more than their paternal inheritance would ever
admit of their paying.

"Why, how is this, Parozzi?" cried Memmo as he entered, a wretch
whose every feature exhibited marks of that libertinism to which his
life had been dedicated; "I can scarce recover myself from my
astonishment. For Heaven's sake, is this report true? Did you
really hire Matteo to murder the Doge's niece?"