“O my God! why didst Thou endow me with so light a love and so ignorant a heart?  Why didst thou not create me as the little dog that faithfully served his mistress?  Alas, my little friend, the joy your bark was wont to give me is turned to deadly sorrow, now that another than we twain has heard your voice.  Yet, sweetheart, neither the love of the Duchess nor of any living woman turned me aside, though indeed that wicked one did often ask and entreat me.  ’Twas by my ignorance, which thought to secure our love for ever, that I was overcome.  Yet for that ignorance am I none the less guilty; for I revealed my sweetheart’s secret and broke my promise to her, and for this cause alone do I see her lying dead before my eyes.  Alas, sweetheart, death will to me be less cruel than to you, whose love has ended your innocent life.  Methinks it would not deign to touch my faithless and miserable heart; for life with dishonour and the memory of that which I have lost through guilt would be harder to bear than ten thousand deaths.  Alas, sweetheart, had any dared to slay you through mischance or malice, I should quickly have clapped hand to sword to avenge you; ’tis therefore right that I should not pardon the murderer who has caused your death by a more wicked act than any sword-thrust.  Did I know a viler executioner than myself, I would entreat him to put your traitorous lover to death.  O Love!  I have offended thee from not having known how to love, and therefore thou wilt not succour me as thou didst succour her who kept all thy laws.  ’Tis not right that I should die after so honourable a manner; but ’tis well that I should die by mine own hand.  I have washed your face, sweet, with my tears, and with my tongue have craved your forgiveness; and now it only remains for my hand to make my body like unto yours, and send my soul whither yours will go, in the knowledge that a virtuous and honourable love can never end, whether in this world or in the next.”

Rising up from the body he then, like a frenzied man beside himself, drew his dagger and with great violence stabbed himself to the heart.  Then he again took his sweetheart in his arms, kissing her with such passion that it seemed as though he were seized rather with love than with death.

The damsel, seeing him deal himself the blow, ran to the door and called for help.  The Duke, on hearing the outcry, suspected misfortune to those he loved, and was the first to enter the closet, where he beheld the piteous pair.  He sought to separate them, and, if it were possible, to save the gentleman; but the latter clasped his sweetheart so fast that he could not be taken from her until he was dead.  Nevertheless he heard the Duke speaking to him and saying—­“Alas! what is the cause of this?” To which, with a glance of fury, he replied—­“My tongue, my lord, and yours.”  So saying, he died, with his face close pressed to that of his mistress.