For you no longer love me, Eliza. Well, my poor child [you
must not call her _my poor child_ excepting when the crime has not
been committed]--why deceive ourselves? Why do you not answer me? If
love is extinguished between a married couple, cannot friendship and
confidence still survive? Are we not two companions united in making
the same journey? Can it be said that during the journey the one must
never hold out his hand to the other to raise up a comrade or to
prevent a comrade's fall? But I have perhaps said too much and I am
wounding your pride--Eliza! Eliza!"
Now what the deuce would you expect a woman to answer? Why a
catastrophe naturally follows, without a single word.
In a hundred women there may be found at least a good half dozen of
feeble creatures who under this violent shock return to their husbands
never perhaps again to leave them, like scorched cats that dread the
fire. But this scene is a veritable alexipharmaca, the doses of which
should be measured out by prudent hands.
For certain women of delicate nerves, whose souls are soft and timid,
it would be sufficient to point out the lurking-place where the lover
lies, and say: "M. A----z is there!" [at this point shrug your
shoulders]. "How can you thus run the risk of causing the death of two
worthy people? I am going out; let him escape and do not let this
happen again.
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