Moreover, when a man only supposes, as Nino did, that he is leaving the woman he loves, or is about to leave her, until he can devise some new plan for seeing her, the case is not so very serious.  Nevertheless, Nino, who is of a very tender constitution of the affections, suffered certain pangs which are always hard to bear, and as he walked slowly down the street he hung his head low, and did not look like a man who could possibly be successful in anything he might undertake that day.  Yet it was the most important day of his life, and had it not been that he had left Hedwig with little hope of ever giving her another lesson, he would have been so happy that the whole air would have seemed dancing with sunbeams and angels and flowers.  I think that when a man loves he cares very little for what he does.  The greatest success is indifferent to him, and he cares not at all for failure in the ordinary undertakings of life.  These are my reflections, and they are worth something, because I once loved very much myself, and was parted from her I loved many times before the last parting.

It was on this day that Nino came to me and told me all the history of the past months, of which I knew nothing; but, as you know all about it, I need not tell you what the conversation was like, until he had finished.  Then I told him he was the prince and chief of donkeys, which was no more than the truth, as everybody will allow.  He only spread out his palms and shrugged his shoulders, putting his head on one side, as though to say he could not help it.

“Is it perhaps my fault that you are a little donkey?” I asked; for you may imagine whether I was angry or not.

“Certainly not, Sor Cornelio,” he said.  “It is entirely my own doing; but I do not see that I am a donkey.”

“Blood of Bacchus!” I ejaculated, holding up my hands.  “He does not believe he is a great stupid!” But Nino was not angry at all.  He busied himself a little with his costume, which was laid out on the piano, with the sword and the tinsel collar and all the rest of it.

“I am in love,” he said.  “What would you have?”

“I would have you put a little giudizio, just a grain of judgment and common sense, into your love affairs.  Why, you go about it as though it were the most innocent thing in the world to disguise yourself, and present yourself as a professor in a nobleman’s house, in order to make love to his daughter!  You, to make love to a noble damigella, a young countess, with a fortune!  Go back to Serveti, and marry the first contadina girl you meet, it is much more fitting, if you must needs marry at all.  I repeat it, you are an ignorant donkey!”

“Eh!” cried Nino, perfectly unmoved, “if I am ignorant, it is not for lack of your teaching; and as for being the beast of burden to which you refer, I have heard it said that you were once in love yourself.  Meanwhile, I have told you this, because there will perhaps be trouble, and I did not intend you to be surprised.”