“And the good, jealous husband remarked nothing?” asked the cardinal.

“He remarked nothing!  He loved me, he confided in me, he called me his friend; and when he was compelled to take a long journey, he confided to me his house and his wife, establishing me as the guard of her virtue!”

The cardinal broke out into loud laughter.  “These good husbands,” said he, “they are all alike to a hair.  Every one has a friend in whom he confides, and it is that very friend who betrays him.  They must all fulfil their destinies, these good husbands!  Relate further, holy father!  Your story is very entertaining.  I am curious to hear the end!”

“The end was terrible, replete with horror and shame,” said the pope.  “We lived blessed days, heavenly nights.  Oh, we were so happy that we hardly had a thought for our criminality, but only for our love.  One night there was a knocking at the closed door of the house, and we shudderingly recognized the voice of the husband demanding admission.”

“And you were not at all in a situation to grant it to him,” laughingly interposed the cardinal.  “He might, perhaps, have been not a little astonished, this good husband, that you watched by night as well as by day the temple of his wedded happiness.”

“With tears of anguish and terror she conjured me to fly, to save her from the derision of the world and the anger of her husband.  She led me to a secret stairway, and I, like a madman pursued by the furies, was hastening to descend, when my foot slipped and I fell down the stairs with a loud clattering noise.  I felt the blood oozing from my breast and pouring from my mouth in a warm stream—­my limbs pained me frightfully—­but I picked myself up and with extremest suffering fled to my cloister, when, having reached my cell, I fell senseless.  A long illness now confined me to my bed and tortured my body with frightful pains; but far more frightful were the tortures of my soul, more frightful the voices that day and night whispered to me of my crime and guiltiness!  My conscience was fully awakened; it spoke to me in a voice of thunder, and like a worm I turned upon my bed of pain, imploring of God a little mercy for the torments that burned my brain!  This time God permitted Himself to be found by me; I heard his voice, saying:  ’Go and repent, and thy sins shall be forgiven thee!  Shake off the sinfulness that weighs upon thy head, and peace will return to thy bosom.’  I heard this voice of God, and wept with repentant sorrow.  I vowed to obey and reconcile myself to God by renouncing my love and never again seeing its object!  It was a great sacrifice, but God demanded it, and I obeyed!”

“That is, this sickness had restored you from intoxication to sobriety; you were tired of your mistress!”