of perfidy, and took his leave for ever.  Then her violence broke out, and as a proof of my attachment, she demanded that I should call him to account.  I wished no better, and pretending to be so violently attached to her that I was infatuated, I took an occasion of his laughing at me, to give him the lie, and demand satisfaction.  As it was in the presence of others, there was no recall or explanation allowed.  We met by agreement, alone, in the very field where I had received my chastisement; I brought with me my monastic habit and tonsure, which I concealed before his arrival among the very nettles which he had gathered for my chastisement.  The conflict was not long:  after a few thrusts and parries, he lay dying at my feet.  I immediately threw over my dress that of the friar, and exchanging the wig for the tonsure, stood by him.  He opened his eyes, which had closed from the fainting, occasioned by the sudden gush from his wound, and looked at me with amazement.

“Yes, Don Lopez,” said I, “in Don Pedro behold the Friar Anselmo; he whom you scourged with nettles; he who has revenged the insult.”  I then threw off the monk’s dress, and exposed to him the other beneath it, and changing my tonsure for the wig, “now you are convinced of the truth,” added I, “and now I have my revenge.”

“I am, I am,” replied he faintly; “but if you have slain me as Don Pedro, now that I am dying, I entreat you, as brother Anselmo, to give me absolution.  Carry not your revenge so far as to deny me this.”

I could not refuse; and I gave absolution in the one costume, to the man who had fallen by my hand in the other:  for my own part, I thought it was an absurdity, but my revenge was satisfied, and I would not refuse him such a poor consolation.

A few minutes afterwards he expired, and I hastened to my lodgings, changed my dress, and repaired to the convent, where, as Don Pedro I wrote to Donna Sophia, informing her of what had taken place, and of my having absconded until the hue and cry should be over.  For three weeks I remained in the convent, or only appeared abroad as the Friar Anselmo.  I brought a considerable sum to the superior for the use of the church, partly to satisfy the qualms of conscience which assailed me for the crime which I had committed; partly that I might continue in his good graces.

At the expiration of the time I sent a note to the young lady, as from Don Pedro, acquainting her with my return, and my intention to call upon her in the dusk of the evening.  I went to my lodgings, dressed myself as Don Pedro, and tapping at her door, was admitted; but instead of being cordially greeted, as I expected, I was repulsed, loaded with abuse, and declared an object of detestation.  It appeared that, although in her rage at the desertion of her lover, she had listened to the dictates of revenge, now that he was no more, all her affection for him had revived.  I returned her upbraiding, and quitted the room to leave the house:  but she had no intention that I should escape, and had stationed two of her relations below, ready to intercept me.