I found her alone, seated in the corner of the room
with an expression of sorrow on her face and an appearance of general
disorder in her surroundings. I overwhelmed her with violent reproaches;
I was intoxicated with despair. In a paroxysm of grief I fell on the bed
and gave free course to my tears.
"Ah! faithless one! wretch!" I cried between my sobs, "you knew that it
would kill me. Did the prospect please you? What have I done to you?"
She threw her arms around my neck, saying that she had been seduced, that
my rival had intoxicated her at that fatal supper, but that she had never
been his; that she had abandoned herself in a moment of forgetfulness;
that she had committed a fault but not a crime; but that if I would not
pardon her, she, too, would die. All that sincere repentance has of
tears, all that sorrow has of eloquence, she exhausted to console me;
pale and distressed, her dress deranged and her hair falling over her
shoulders she kneeled in the middle of her chamber; never have I seen
anything so beautiful and I shuddered with horror as my senses revolted
at the sight.
I went away crushed, scarcely able to direct my tottering steps. I wished
never to see her again; but in a quarter of an hour I returned. I do not
know what desperate resolve I had formed; I experienced a dull desire to
possess her once more, to drain the cup of tears and bitterness to the
dregs and then to die with her.
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