On the fourth day of my stay in Bologna, I received by express a long letter from Therese.  She informed me that, on the day after my escape from Rimini, Baron Vais had presented to her the Duke de Castropignano, who, having heard her sing, had offered her one thousand ounces a year, and all travelling expenses paid, if she would accept an engagement as prima-donna at the San Carlo Theatre, at Naples, where she would have to go immediately after her Rimini engagement.  She had requested and obtained a week to come to a decision.  She enclosed two documents, the first was the written memorandum of the duke’s proposals, which she sent in order that I should peruse it, as she did not wish to sign it without my consent; the second was a formal engagement, written by herself, to remain all her life devoted to me and at my service.  She added in her letter that, if I wished to accompany her to Naples, she would meet me anywhere I might appoint, but that, if I had any objection to return to that city, she would immediately refuse the brilliant offer, for her only happiness was to please me in all things.

For the first time in my life I found myself in need of thoughtful consideration before I could make up my mind.  Therese’s letter had entirely upset all my ideas, and, feeling that I could not answer it a once, I told the messenger to call the next day.

Two motives of equal weight kept the balance wavering; self-love and love for Therese.  I felt that I ought not to require Therese to give up such prospects of fortune; but I could not take upon myself either to let her go to Naples without me, or to accompany her there.  On one side, I shuddered at the idea that my love might ruin Therese’s prospects; on the other side, the idea of the blow inflicted on my self-love, on my pride, if I went to Naples with her, sickened me.

How could I make up my mind to reappear in that city, in the guise of a cowardly fellow living at the expense of his mistress or his wife?  What would my cousin Antonio, Don Polo and his dear son, Don Lelio Caraffa, and all the patricians who knew me, have said?  The thought of Lucrezia and of her husband sent a cold shiver through me.  I considered that, in spite of my love for Therese, I should become very miserable if everyone despised me.  Linked to her destiny as a lover or as a husband, I would be a degraded, humbled, and mean sycophant.  Then came the thought, Is this to be the end of all my hopes?  The die was cast, my head had conquered my heart.  I fancied that I had hit upon an excellent expedient, which at all events made me gain time, and I resolved to act upon it.  I wrote to Therese, advising her to accept the engagement for Naples, where she might expect me to join her in the month of July, or after my return from Constantinople.  I cautioned her to engage an honest-looking waiting-woman, so as to appear respectably in the world, and, to lead such a life as would permit me to make her my wife, on my return, without being ashamed of myself.  I foresaw that her success would be insured by her beauty even more than by her talent, and, with my nature, I knew that I could never assume the character of an easy-going lover or of a compliant husband.