I could not think of discovering to her the true cause.  When night came, supper was brought, and she pressed me to eat; but considering I could only feed myself with my left hand, I begged to be excused upon the plea of having no appetite.  “It will return,” said she, “if you would but discover what you so obstinately conceal from me.  Your want of appetite, without doubt, is only owing to your irresolution.”

“Alas! madam,” returned I, “I find I must resolve at last.”  I had no sooner spoken, than she filled me a cup full of wine, and offering it to me, “Drink that,” said she, “it will give you courage.”  I reached out my left hand, and took the cup.

When I had taken the cup in my hand, I redoubled my tears and sighs.  “Why do you sigh and weep so bitterly?” asked the lady; “and why do you take the cup with your left hand, rather than your right?” “Ah! madam,” I replied, “I beseech you excuse me; I have a swelling in my right hand.”  “Let me see that swelling,” said she; “I will open it.”  I desired to be excused, alleging it was not ripe enough for such an operation; and drank off the cup, which was very large.  The fumes of the wine, joined to my weakness and weariness, set me asleep, and I slept very soundly till morning.

In the mean time the lady, curious to know what ailed my right hand, lifted up my garment that covered it; and saw to her great astonishment that it was cut off, and that I had brought it along with me wrapped up in a cloth.  She presently apprehended what was my reason for declining a discovery, notwithstanding all her pressing solicitation; and passed the night in the greatest uneasiness on account of my disgrace, which she concluded had been occasioned only by the love I bore to her.

When I awoke, I discerned by her countenance that she was extremely grieved.  However, that she might not increase my uneasiness she said not a word.  She called for jelly-broth of fowl, which she had ordered to be prepared, and made me eat and drink to recruit my strength.  After that, I offered to take leave of her; but she declared I should not go out of her doors.  “Though you tell me nothing of the matter,” said she, “I am persuaded I am the cause of the misfortune that has befallen you.  The grief that I feel on that account will soon end my days, but before I die, I must execute a design for your benefit.”  She had no sooner spoken, than she called for a judge and witnesses, and ordered a writing to be drawn up, putting me in possession of her whole property.  After this was done, and every body dismissed, she opened a large trunk where lay all the purses I had given her from the commencement of our amour.  “There they are all entire,” said she; “I have not touched one of them.  Here is the key ; take it, for all is yours.”  After I had returned her thanks for her generosity and goodness; “What I have done for you,” said she, “is nothing; I shall not be satisfied unless I die, to show how much I love you.”  I conjured her, by all the powers of love, to relinquish such a fatal resolution.  But all my remonstrances were ineffectual:  she was so afflicted to see me have but one hand, that she sickened, and died after five or six weeks’ illness.