They were nearing the black trees at the entrance to San Niccola bridge.  On the other side of the river the vague fields displayed their sadness, intensified by night.  Seeing that he was calm and full of a soft languor, she thought that his love, all imagination, had fled in words, and that his desires had become only a reverie.  She had not expected so prompt a resignation.  It almost disappointed her to escape the danger she had feared.

She extended her hand to him, more boldly this time than before.

“Then, let us be friends.  It is late.  Let us return.  Take me to my carriage.  I shall be what I have been to you, an excellent friend.  You have not displeased me.”

But he led her to the fields, in the growing solitude of the shore.

“No, I will not let you go without having told you what I wish to say.  But I know no longer how to speak; I can not find the words.  I love you.  I wish to know that you are mine.  I swear to you that I will not live another night in the horror of doubting it.”

He pressed her in his arms; and seeking the light of her eyes through the obscurity of her veil, said “You must love me.  I desire you to love me, and it is your fault, for you have desired it too.  Say that you are mine.  Say it.”

Having gently disengaged herself, she replied, faintly and slowly “I can not!  I can not!  You see I am acting frankly with you.  I said to you a moment ago that you had not displeased me.  But I can not do as you wish.”

And recalling to her thought the absent one who was waiting for her, she repeated:  “I can not!” Bending over her he anxiously questioned her eyes, the double stars that trembled and veiled themselves.  “Why?  You love me, I feel it, I see it.  You love me.  Why will you do me this wrong?”

He drew her to him, wishing to lay his soul, with his lips, on her veiled lips.  She escaped him swiftly, saying:  “I can not.  Do not ask more.  I can not be yours.”

His lips trembled, his face was convulsed.  He exclaimed “You have a lover, and you love him.  Why do you mock me?”

“I swear to you I have no desire to mock you, and that if I loved any one in the world it would be you.”  But he was not listening to her.

“Leave me, leave me!” And he ran toward the dark fields.  The Arno formed lagoons, upon which the moon, half veiled, shone fitfully.  He walked through the water and the mud, with a step rapid, blind, like that of one intoxicated.  She took fright and shouted.  She called him.  But he did not turn his head and made no answer.  He fled with alarming recklessness.  She ran after him.  Her feet were hurt by the stones, and her skirt was heavy with water, but soon she overtook him.

“What were you about to do?”

He looked at her, and saw her fright in her eyes.  “Do not be afraid,” he said.  “I did not see where I was going.  I assure you I did not intend to kill myself.  I am desperate, but I am calm.  I was only trying to escape from you.  I beg your pardon.  But I could not see you any longer.  Leave me, I pray you.  Farewell!”