Who would guess the cause of my tears, and what, at this moment, passed within me?  I said to myself:  the object in my power is the masterpiece of love; her wit and person equally approach perfection; she is as good and generous as she is amiable and beautiful.  Yet she is a miserable prostitute, abandoned to the public.  The captain of a merchantship disposed of her at will; she has thrown herself into my arms, although she knows I have nothing; and my merit with which she cannot be acquainted, can be to her no inducement.  In this there is something inconceivable.  Either my heart deceives me, fascinates my senses, and makes me the dupe of an unworthy slut, or some secret defect, of which I am ignorant, destroys the effect of her charms, and renders her odious in the eyes of those by whom her charms would otherwise be disputed.  I endeavored, by an extraordinary effort of mind, to discover this defect, but it did not so much as strike me that even the consequences to be apprehended, might possibly have some influence.  The clearness of her skin, the brilliancy of her complexion, her white teeth, sweet breath, and the appearance of neatness about her person, so far removed from me this idea, that, still in doubt relative to my situation after the affair of the ‘padoana’, I rather apprehended I was not sufficiently in health for her:  and I am firmly persuaded I was not deceived in my opinion.  These reflections, so apropos, agitated me to such a degree as to make me shed tears.  Zuliette, to whom the scene was quite novel, was struck speechless for a moment.  But having made a turn in her chamber, and passing before her glass, she comprehended, and my eyes confirmed her opinion, that disgust had no part in what had happened.  It was not difficult for her to recover me and dispel this shamefacedness.

But, at the moment in which I was ready to faint upon a bosom, which for the first time seemed to suffer the impression of the hand and lips of a man, I perceived she had a withered ‘teton’.  I struck my forehead:  I examined, and thought I perceived this teton was not formed like the other.  I immediately began to consider how it was possible to have such a defect, and persuaded of its proceeding from some great natural vice, I was clearly convinced, that, instead of the most charming person of whom I could form to myself an idea, I had in my arms a species of a monster, the refuse of nature, of men and of love.  I carried my stupidity so far as to speak to her of the discovery I had made.  She, at first, took what I said jocosely; and in her frolicsome humor, did and said things which made me die of love.  But perceiving an inquietude I could not conceal, she at length reddened, adjusted her dress, raised herself up, and without saying a word, went and placed herself at a window.  I attempted to place myself by her side:  she withdrew to a sofa, rose from it the next moment, and fanning herself as she walked about the chamber, said to me in a reserved and disdainful tone of voice, “Zanetto, ’lascia le donne, a studia la matematica.”—­[Leave women and study mathematics.]