So saying, the duke rose, and repaired to the apartment where Cornelia was awaiting him in all the splendour of her beauty and rich decorations.  No sooner was he gone than Don Juan also rose, and laying both hands on the arms of Lorenzo’s chair, he said to him, “By St. James of Galicia, by the true faith of a Christian, and by my honour as a gentleman, Signor Lorenzo, I will as readily allow the duke to fulfil his project as I will become a worshipper of Mahomed.  Here, in this spot, he shall yield up his life at my hands, or he shall redeem the promise given to your sister, the lady Cornelia.  At the least, he shall give us time to seek her; and until we know to a certainty that she is dead, he shall not marry.”

“That is exactly my own view,” replied Lorenzo.  “And I am sure,” rejoined Don Juan, “that it will be the determination of my comrade, Don Antonio, likewise.”

While they were thus speaking, Cornelia appeared at the door between the duke and the priest, each of whom led her by one hand.  Behind them came Sulpicia, her waiting woman, whom the duke had summoned from Ferrara to attend her lady, with the infant’s nurse, and the Spaniards’ housekeeper.  When Lorenzo saw his sister, and had assured himself it was indeed Cornelia,—­for at first the apparently impossible character of the occurrence had forbidden his belief,—­he staggered on his feet, and cast himself at those of the duke, who, raising him, placed him in the arms of his delighted sister, whilst Don Juan and Don Antonio hastily applauded the duke for the clever trick he had played upon them all.

Alfonso then took the infant from Sulpicia, and, presenting it to Lorenzo, he said, “Signor and brother, receive your nephew, my son, and see whether it please you to give permission for the public solemnisation of my marriage with this peasant girl—­the only one to whom I have ever been betrothed.”

To repeat the replies of Lorenzo would be never to make an end, and the rather if to these we added the questions of Don Juan, the remarks of Don Antonio, the expressions of delight uttered by the priest, the rejoicing of Sulpicia, the satisfaction of the housekeeper who had made herself the counsellor of Cornelia, the exclamations of the nurse, and the astonishment of Fabio, with the general happiness of all.

The marriage ceremony was performed by the good priest, and Don Juan de Gamboa gave away the bride; but it was agreed among the parties that this marriage also should be kept secret, until he knew the result of the malady under which the duchess-dowager was labouring; for the present, therefore, it was determined that Cornelia should return to Bologna with her brother.  All was done as thus agreed on; and when the duchess-dowager died, Cornelia made her entrance into Ferrara, rejoicing the eyes of all who beheld her:  the mourning weeds were exchanged for festive robes, the two housekeepers were enriched, and Sulpicia was married to Fabio.