"It is well. Although I have no other proof of your own baseness, and the Duchess's also, than your present boldness, it would be enough for me, perhaps too much. Were these the joys, these the greetings and the kisses, I looked for? Alas, miserable man!..."
Mary, struck by the changed aspect of her husband, asked what sudden thought had troubled him; but he paid not attention to her, and, like a man bewildered, he murmured threateningly:
"Ah! Titta, your words were true as gospel.—And I was going with so much joy to meet a beloved wife! Better for me if I had broken my legs; were husbands watch-dogs they never could be able to guard their wives:—the thieves would enter by the roof. I will kill myself: everything in the world is over for me. But you need not rejoice in my death, Mary;—No, I vow to God my curse shall cleave to you like marrow in the bone. You have betrayed me, you shall be betrayed; unhappy days, a dark life and bitter death await you...."
In the midst of these laments, which passion drew from him, the noise of a child crying was heard in the next room, and an infantile voice called:—
"Mama!—Mama!"
Cecchino's hair stood upright on his head like the quills of a porcupine, his face was pale as a sheet, and then turned as red as fire; his lips trembled convulsively, his eyes gleamed with evil passion, and overcome by a brutal rage he seized Mary by the arm, and dragged her into the next room. Scarcely had they passed the threshold than a little child on the bed sat up, and stretching its little hands joyfully towards Mary, cried again:
"Mama!—Mama!"
Cecchino, pale with rage, pushed Mary with so much force from him that she fell against the bed, and upon the child.
Overcome by surprise, anger, fear, and by the turn of affairs, she could not utter a word: but her anger soon gave place to pity. Her heart was almost broken by so many conflicting emotions: she glided from the bed, and knelt down, crossing her hands humbly, before her angry husband. But he, becoming more enraged at this act, muttered:
"No ... you must die ... we must all die ... there is no pity ... I want none for myself ... think then if you deserve it ... or this viper...."