"Do you think that I am blind too?
Do you think I will overlook all this?
Do you not see that your reputation is injured--that people associate your name with his--that no woman can be mentioned in the same breath with Giovanni Saracinesca and hope to maintain a fair fame?
A fellow whose adventures are in everybody's mouth, whose doings are notorious; who has but to look at a woman to destroy her; who is a duellist, a libertine--" "That is not true," interrupted Corona, unable to listen calmly to the abuse thus heaped upon the man she so dearly loved.

"You are mad--" "You defend him!" screamed Astrardente, leaning far forward in his chair and clenching his hands.

"You dare to support him--you acknowledge that you care for him! Does he not pursue you everywhere, so that the town rings with it?
You ought to long to be rid of him, to wish he were dead, rather than allow his name to be breathed with yours; and instead, you defend him to me--you say he is right, that you prefer his odious devotion to your good name, to my good name! Oh, it is not to be believed! If you loved him yourself you could not do worse!" "If half you say were true--" said Corona, in terrible distress.
"True ?" cried Astrardente, who would not brook interruption.

"It is all true--and more also.

It is true that he loves you, true that all the world says it, true--by all that is holy, from your face I would almost believe that you do love him! Why do you not deny it?
Miserable woman!" he screamed, springing towards her and seizing her roughly by the arm, as she hid her face in her hands.