I was determined never to visit Madame Orio’s house, and on that very day I held an argument in metaphysics, in which I contended that any being of whom we had only an abstract idea, could only exist abstractedly, and I was right; but it was a very easy task to give to my thesis an irreligious turn, and I was obliged to recant.  A few days afterwards I went to Padua, where I took my degree of doctor ‘utroque jure’.

When I returned to Venice, I received a note from M. Rosa, who entreated me to call upon Madame Orio; she wished to see me, and, feeling certain of not meeting Angela, I paid her a visit the same evening.  The two graceful sisters were so kind, so pleasant, that they scattered to the winds the shame I felt at seeing them after the fearful night I had passed in their room two months before.  The labours of writing my thesis and passing my examination were of course sufficient excuses for Madame Orio, who only wanted to reproach me for having remained so long away from her house.

As I left, Nanette gave me a letter containing a note from Angela, the contents of which ran as follows: 

“If you are not afraid of passing another night with me you shall have no reason to complain of me, for I love you, and I wish to hear from your own lips whether you would still have loved me if I had consented to become contemptible in your eyes.”

This is the letter of Nanette, who alone had her wits about her: 

“M.  Rosa having undertaken to bring you back to our house, I prepare these few lines to let you know that Angela is in despair at having lost you.  I confess that the night you spent with us was a cruel one, but I do not think that you did rightly in giving up your visits to Madame Orio.  If you still feel any love for Angela, I advise you to take your chances once more.  Accept a rendezvous for another night; she may vindicate herself, and you will be happy.  Believe me; come.  Farewell!”

Those two letters afforded me much gratification, for I had it in my power to enjoy my revenge by shewing to Angela the coldest contempt.  Therefore, on the following Sunday I went to Madame Orio’s house, having provided myself with a smoked tongue and a couple of bottles of Cyprus wine; but to my great surprise my cruel mistress was not there.  Nanette told me that she had met her at church in the morning, and that she would not be able to come before supper-time.  Trusting to that promise I declined Madam Orio’s invitation, and before the family sat down to supper I left the room as I had done on the former occasion, and slipped upstairs.  I longed to represent the character I had prepared myself for, and feeling assured that Angela, even if she should prove less cruel, would only grant me insignificant favours, I despised them in anticipation, and resolved to be avenged.

After waiting three quarters of an hour the street door was locked, and a moment later Nanette and Marton entered the room.