“Certainly, if you truly love me.”

“Good God! if I love you?  Oh, yes! believe me, my love is immense, sincere!  Now, decide my fate.”

“What! always the same song?”

“Yes.”

“But are you aware that you look very angry?”

“No, for it is not so.  I am only in a state of uncontrollable excitement, in one of the decisive hours of my life, a prey to the most fearful anxiety.  I ought to curse my whimsical destiny and the ‘sbirri’ of Cesena (may God curse them, too!), for, without them, I should never have known you.”

“Are you, then, so very sorry to have made my acquaintance?”

“Have I not some reason to be so?”

“No, for I have not given you my decision yet.”

“Now I breathe more freely, for I am sure you will tell me to accompany you to Parma.”

“Yes, come to Parma.”