Book the Third - Chapter 1 The Lovers

Rosabella, the idol of all Venice, lay on the bed of sickness; a
sorrow, whose cause was carefully concealed from every one,
undermined her health, and destroyed the bloom of her beauty. She
loved the noble Flodoardo; and who could have known Flodoardo and
not have loved him? His majestic stature, his expressive
countenance, his enthusiastic glance, his whole being declared
aloud--Flodoardo is Nature's favourite, and Rosabella had been
always a great admirer of Nature.

But if Rosabella was ill, Flodoardo was scarcely better. He
confined himself to his own apartment; he shunned society, and
frequently made long journeys to different cities of the Republic,
in hopes of distracting his thoughts by change of place from that
object which, wherever he went, still pursued him. He had now been
absent for three whole weeks. No one knew in what quarter he was
wandering; and it was during this absence that the so-long expected
Prince of Monaldeschi arrived at Venice to claim Rosabella as his
bride.

His appearance, to which a month before Andreas looked forward with
such pleasing expectation, now afforded but little satisfaction to
the Doge. Rosabella was too ill to receive her suitor's visits, and
he did not allow her much time to recover her health; for six days
after his arrival at Venice the Prince was found murdered in a
retired part of one of the public gardens. His sword lay by him
unsheathed and bloody; his tablets were gone, but one leaf had been
torn from them and fastened on his breast. It was examined, and
found to contain the following lines, apparently written in blood:-