Then grieving
she rises from the table, and makes her lament, but so that no
one hears or notices her. She is so beside herself that she
repeatedly grasps her throat with the desire to kill herself; but
first she confesses to herself, and repents with self-reproach,
blaming and censuring herself for the wrong she had done him,
who, as she knew, had always been hers, and would still be hers,
if he were alive. She is so distressed at the thought of her
cruelty, that her beauty is seriously impaired. Her cruelty and
meanness affected her and marred her beauty more than all the
vigils and fastings with which she afflicted herself. When all
her sins rise up before her, she gathers them together, and as
she reviews them, she repeatedly exclaims: "Alas! of what was I
thinking when my lover stood before me and I should have welcomed
him, that I would not listen to his words? Was I not a fool,
when I refused to look at or speak to him? Foolish indeed?
Rather was I base and cruel, so help me God. I intended it as a
jest, but he did not take it so, and has not pardoned me. I am
sure it was no one but me who gave him his death-blow. When he
came before me smiling and expecting that I would be glad to see
him and would welcome him, and when I would not look at him, was
not that a mortal blow? When I refused to speak with him, then
doubtless at one blow I deprived him of his heart and life.
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