This did my father read aloud to the count; and by what I have told you of his passion for me, it is easy for you to guess into what an excess of jealous rage it must transport him. There was all the room in the world for him to believe I was carrying on an intrigue, the most dishonourable that could be; he knew not the conditions on which I had consented to admit him; and I cannot, without being guilty of partiality, but confess that there was a warmth in this letter, which had no affinity with platonic love. It is difficult to say, whether my father or husband were now most incensed against me, or which formed the most cruel stratagems of revenge on him by whom they imagined themselves injured and affronted; but between them, there was one contrived, which I know not if any age can parallel, and I am sure none can exceed: They ordered my woman to be fast bound, and locked in an upper room; having first, with their drawn daggers at her throat, compelled her to write a billet to me, containing these lines:
"AN accident, such as will take up more time than I can now afford to relate, takes me from the honour of your service. It may be long before I enjoy the happiness of returning. I send this, therefore, to let you know, I delivered the letter you entrusted me with, safe into the hands of Signior Lorenzo, who cannot enjoy the blessing you would bestow on him; this night being, as he says, obliged to attend the issue of an affair on which his life depends. I wish you could be able to forget him entirely, or think on him but as a man unworthy of your favour. I am, with all respect and duty,
