I walked through the streets like a man who has received sentence of
death. My brain was whirling, and sometimes I stopped and pressed my
head with both hands to relieve the insupportable pressure. I could not
realise what had happened; I only knew it was terrible. I felt as if I
were going mad; I could have killed myself. At last, getting home, I
threw myself on my bed and tried to gather myself together. I cried out
against that woman. I wished I had my fingers curling round her soft
white throat, that I could strangle the life out of her. Oh, I hated
her!
At last I fell asleep, and in that sweet forgetfulness enjoyed a little
peace. When I woke I lay still for a moment without remembering what had
happened; then suddenly it came back to me, and the blood flushed to my
face as I thought of how I had humiliated myself to her. She must be as
hard as stone, I said to myself, to see my misery and not take pity on
me. She saw my tears and was not moved one jot. All the time I had been
praying and beseeching, she had been as calm as a marble figure. She
must have seen my agony and the passion of my love, and yet she was
absolutely, absolutely indifferent. Oh, I despised her! I had known even
when I adored her madly that it was only my love which gave her the
qualities I worshipped. I had seen she was ignorant and foolish, and
commonplace and vicious; but I did not care as long as I loved her and
could have her love in return. But when I thought of her so horribly
heartless, so uncaring to my unhappiness, I did more than hate her--I
utterly despised her. I despised myself for having loved her. I despised
myself for loving her still....
I got up and went about my day's duties, trying to forget myself in
their performance. But still I brooded over my misery, and in my heart I
cursed the woman. It was Nemesis, always Nemesis! In my folly I had
forgotten her; and yet I should have remembered that through my life all
happiness had been followed by all misery.... I had tried to ward off
the evil by sacrifice; I had rejoiced at the harm which befell me, but
the very rejoicing seemed to render the hurt of no avail, and with the
inevitableness of fate, Nemesis had come and thrown me back into the old
unhappiness. But of late I had forgotten. What was Nemesis to me now
when I thought my happiness so great that it could not help but last? It
was so robust and strong that I never thought of its cessation. I did
not even think the Gods were good to me at last. I had forgotten the
Gods; I thought of nothing but love and Giulia.
Matteo came asking me to go to the Palace with him and Checco, at the
particular desire of Girolamo, who wished to show them the progress of
the decorations. I would not go. I wanted to be alone and think.
But my thoughts maddened me. Over and over again I repeated every word
of the terrible quarrel, and more than ever I was filled with horror for
her cold cruelty. What right have these people to make us unhappy? Is
there not enough misery in the world already? Oh, it is brutal!
I could not bear myself; I regretted that I had not gone to the Palace.
I detested this solitude.
The hours passed like years, and as my brain grew tired I sank into a
state of sodden, passive misery.
At last they came back, and Matteo told me what had happened. I tried to
listen, to forget myself.... It appeared that the Count had been
extremely cordial. After talking to them of his house, and showing the
beautiful things he had collected to furnish it with, he took them to
Caterina's apartments, where they found the Countess surrounded by her
children. She had been very charming and gracious, even deigning to
compliment Matteo on his gallantry. How it interested me to know all
this! The children had run to Checco as soon as they saw him, dragging
him into their game. The others looked on while the Orsi played
good-humouredly with the little boys, and Girolamo, laying his hand on
Checco's shoulder, had remarked,--
'You see, dear friend, the children are determined that there should not
be enmity between us. And when the little ones love you so dearly, can
you think that I should hate you?'
And when they left he had accompanied them to the gates and been quite
affectionate in his farewell.
At last the night came and I could shut myself up in my room. I thought
with a bitter smile that it was the hour at which I was used to go to
Giulia. And now I should never go to Giulia again. My unhappiness was
too great for wrath; I felt too utterly miserable to think of my
grievances, or of my contempt. I only felt broken-hearted. I could not
keep the tears back, and burying my face in the pillows, I cried my
heart out. It was years and years since I had wept, not since I was
quite a boy, but this blow had taken from me all manliness, and I gave
myself over to my grief, passionately, shamelessly. I did not care that
I was weak; I had no respect for myself, or care for myself. The sobs
came, one on the heels of another like waves, and the pain, as they tore
my chest, relieved the anguish of my mind. Exhaustion came at last, and
with it sleep.
But I knew I could not hide the change in me, and Matteo soon noticed
it.
'What is the matter with you, Filippo?' he asked. I blushed and
hesitated.
'Nothing,' I answered at last.
'I thought you were unhappy.'
Our eyes met, but I could not stand his inquiring glance and looked
down. He came to me, and sitting on the arm of my chair, put his hand on
my shoulder and said affectionately,--
'We're friends, aren't we, Filippo?'
'Yes,' I answered, smiling and taking his hand.
'Won't you trust me?'