The dreadful Nina Bergonci, who had made a madman of Count Ricla, and was the source of all my woes at Barcelona, had come to Bologna at the beginning of Lent, occupying a pleasant house which she had taken.  She had carte blanche with a banker, and kept up a great state, affirming herself to be with child by the Viceroy of Catalonia, and demanding the honours which would be given to a queen who had graciously chosen Bologna as the place of her confinement.  She had a special recommendation to the legate, who often visited her, but in the greatest secrecy.

The time of her confinement approached, and the insane Ricla sent over a confidential man, Don Martino, who was empowered to have the child baptized, and to recognize it as Ricla’s natural offspring.

Nina made a show of her condition, appearing at the theatre and in the public places with an enormous belly.  The greatest noble of Bologna paid court to her, and Nina told them that they might do so, but that she could not guarantee their safety from the jealous dagger of Ricla.  She was impudent enough to tell them what happened to me at Barcelona, not knowing that I was at Bologna.

She was extremely surprised to hear from Count Zini, who knew me, that I inhabited the same town as herself.

When the count met me he asked me if the Barcelona story was true.  I did not care to take him into my confidence, so I replied that I did not know Nina, and that the story had doubtless been made up by her to see whether he would encounter danger for her sake.

When I met the cardinal I told him the whole story, and his eminence was astonished when I gave him some insight into Nina’s character, and informed him that she was the daughter of her sister and her grandfather.

“I could stake my life,” said I, “that Nina is no more with child than you are.”

“Oh, come!” said he, laughing, “that is really too strong; why shouldn’t she have a child?  It is a very simple matter, it seems to me.  Possibly it may not be Ricla’s child but there can be no doubt that she is with somebody’s child.  What object could she have for feigning pregnancy?”

“To make herself famous by defiling the Count de Ricla, who was a model of justice and virtue before knowing this Messalina.  If your eminence knew the hideous character of Nina you would not wonder at anything she did.”

“Well, we shall see.”

“Yes.”

About a week later I heard a great noise in the street, and on putting my head out of the window I saw a woman stripped to the waist, and mounted on an ass, being scourged by the hangman, and hooted by a mob of all the biricchini in Bologna.  Severini came up at the same moment and informed me that the woman was the chief midwife in Bologna, and that her punishment had been ordered by the cardinal archbishop.

“It must be for some great crime,” I observed.

“No doubt.  It is the woman who was with Nina the day before yesterday.”