But I was unprepared for it, and started
violently the moment I heard it. "Ha!" cried he, "now I have passed your
guard, Don Francis, have I? Now perhaps you will do me the honour of
conversing?" I blush to record that I led him within the workshop and
begged him to be quick with his news.
There is no need for any reader of mine to tell me my duty. I ought not
to have allowed her name to rest upon his mouth; I ought not to have
allowed it to touch mine. I ought not to have remembered Aurelia, I
ought not to have adored her. Was I not wedded? Was I not beloved? O God
of Heaven and earth, if regrets did not avail me then, how can they
avail me now? But I will no more look back than I will anticipate in
this narrative. I will repeat with what face I can that I led this hardy
ruffian into the workshop, cleared a bench for him to sit upon, and bade
him tell his story.
Then said he, "My news would at any other time than this give you great
pain, Don Francis, for it is not altogether to the credit of one to whom
you have paid the most tender of your vows. But seeking, as I have
always done, your honour and advantage, I feel that I shall really
increase both of them by what I have to say. For if I remind you that
you are a fortunate husband, it ought to enhance your consciousness of
that fact when I go on to tell you that Donna Aurelia was unworthy of
your attentions, since she took no pains to deserve them."
I said here that I knew beforehand his malice and the reasons for it.
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