J UST AS it’s commonly said that the army without its general and the castle without its warden look bad, I say that a young married woman seems even worse off without her husband, unless there are very pressing reasons for him to be away. I’m in such a bad plight without you and helpless to weather your absence, that if you don’t come back quickly, I’ll have to return to my parents’ house, even though I will have to leave yours unprotected, because the sentry you left me, if I can call him that, I think is more interested in his own pleasure than what concerns you, and since you are discreet, I don’t have to say any more, nor is it a good idea to.
Anselmo received this letter and understood by it that Lotario had already begun his undertaking and that Camila must have been responding as he’d hoped. Delighted beyond measure at this news, he responded to Camila by messenger that she should not leave his house since he would be back shortly. Camila was astonished at Anselmo’s response, which made her even more confused than before, because she didn’t dare stay at home, nor go to her parents’ house, because if she stayed, her virtue was in danger, and if she left, she transgressed her husband’s command.
Finally she resolved to do what was worse for her, which was to stay at home, determined to flee from Lotario’s presence so as not to give occasion for her servants to gossip, and it already grieved her for having written what she had to her husband, fearful that he would think that Lotario had seen some brazenness in her that moved him to cast aside the respect that he owed her. But relying on her goodness, she put her trust in God and her own good intentions, and planned to resist in silence everything that Lotario might want to tell her, without sending further word to her husband, so as not to involve him in any quarrel or trouble.
She even thought of ways to excuse Lotario when Anselmo asked what had moved her to write that letter. With these thoughts, more honorable than logical or effective, the following day she was listening to Lotario, who pressed his suit so effectively that Camila’s resolve began to waver, and her virtue had enough to do to come to the aid of her eyes, so that she would give no sign of any loving compassion that the tears and words of Lotario had awakened in her heart. Lotario was aware of all this and it inflamed him all the more.
Finally, he felt he needed, in the time and opportunity left to him by Anselmo’s absence, to lay siege to that fortress. So he assailed her with praise of her beauty, because nothing will overcome and subdue towers of vanity of beautiful women than vanity itself, placed on the tongue of flattery. Indeed, with all diligence he tunneled through the rock of her integrity with such explosives that even if she’d been made entirely of brass, she would have fallen. Lotario wept, begged, promised, flattered, persisted, and feigned with so much feeling and with such earnestness, that he overthrew Camila’s chastity and came to triumph over what he least expected and most desired.
Camila surrendered, Camila yielded; but no wonder if Lotario’s friendship couldn’t stand firm? A clear proof for us that the only way to conquer the passion of love is to flee from it, and no one should grapple with such a powerful enemy, because divine force is needed to vanquish the power of love. Only Leonela knew of her mistress’ weakness, because the two bad friends and new lovers couldn’t hide it from her. Lotario didn’t want to tell Camila about Anselmo’s scheme or that Anselmo had given him the opportunity to accomplish that outcome, so that she would hold his love in less esteem, and think it was by chance and without intention, and not on purpose, that he’d courted her.
A few days later, Anselmo came back to his house and he didn’t notice what was missing—the thing he treated so lightly and prized the most. He went immediately to see Lotario and found him in his house. The two embraced, and Anselmo asked for the news of his life or his death.
“The news I can give you, Anselmo,” said Lotario, “is that you have a wife who deservedly can be the example and crown of all good women. The words I told her were borne off by the air; the promises were disdained; the gifts were not accepted; at my feigned tears she jested openly. In short, just as Camila is the emblem of all beauty, she’s also the archive where purity dwells, where courtesy and modesty, and all the virtues that can make an honest woman praiseworthy and fortunate reside. Take your money back, my friend. I have it here without having needed to touch it, for Camila’s integrity does not surrender to things as low as gifts and promises. Be content, Anselmo, and don’t seek further proof. Since you’ve sailed through the sea of difficulties and suspicions that may be—and commonly are—held regarding women, without getting wet, don’t seek to plunge once again into the deep sea of new obstacles, nor try another experiment with a new navigator to test the goodness and strength of the ship that heaven has given you for your voyage across the sea of this world, but rather you should realize you’re in a safe harbor, and you should moor yourself with the anchors of sound reflection, and live in peace until they come to collect the debt no human nobility can forgive you from paying.”
Anselmo was very happy with Lotario’s words and believed them as if they had been said by an oracle. Nevertheless, he begged Lotario not to give up the undertaking, even if just for curiosity and pastime, though he need not be as zealous as before. He only wanted Lotario to write some verses in her praise, using the name of Clori, and that Anselmo himself would give her to understand that Lotario was in love with a woman to whom he’d given that name so that he could celebrate her with the decorum her honor demanded. And if Lotario didn’t want to write those verses, he would write them himself.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Lotario, “since the Muses are not such enemies of mine that they don’t visit me at times during the year. Tell Camila what you’ve said about pretended love, and I’ll write the poems, and if they aren’t as good as their subject deserves, they’ll be at least as good as I can make them.”
Thus the ill-advised one and his treacherous friend agreed, and Anselmo went home and asked Camila what she was astonished he hadn’t asked before—which was what had given her the occasion to write the letter that she had sent. Camila answered that it had seemed to her that Lotario was looking at her a little more freely than when Anselmo was at home, but now she realized that it was just her imagination because Lotario now was avoiding seeing her and being alone with her. Anselmo told her that she could rest easy on that suspicion because he knew that Lotario was in love with a noble maiden in that city whom he celebrated under the name Clori, and that even if he weren’t in love, she had no reason to doubt Lotario’s loyalty and the great friendship he held for both of them. If Camila had not been previously apprised by Lotario that the love for Clori was only pretended, and he’d told it to Anselmo so he could spend some time writing praises about Camila, she doubtless would have fallen into the despairing net of jealousy; but since she had been forewarned, that possible fright caused her no grief.
The next day, when the three were at dinner, Anselmo asked Lotario to recite something that he’d composed for his beloved Clori; since Camila didn’t know her, he could certainly say whatever he wanted. “Even if she knew her,” responded Lotario, “I wouldn’t hide anything, because when a lover praises the beauty of his lady and calls her cruel, he casts no reproach on her and her good name, and he can surely say whatever he wants. But be that as it may, all I can say is that yesterday I wrote a sonnet about the ingratitude of this Clori that goes like this:”
This sonnet pleased Camila, but more so Anselmo, and he praised it and said that the lady was too cruel if she didn’t respond to such manifest sincerity, to which Camila said: “Then is everything true that all poets who are in love say?”
“As poets, they don’t tell the truth,” responded Lotario, “but as lovers they’re not always able to express what they mean.”
“There is no doubt about that,” replied Anselmo, eager to support Lotario’s thoughts with Camila, who was as unaware of his plan as she was in love with Lotario. So, with the pleasure that she derived from anything of his, and more so knowing that his desires and poems were directed to her, and that she was the real Clori, she asked him if he had another sonnet or some other verses that he could recite.
“Yes, I have,” responded Lotario, “but I don’t think it’s as good as the first one, or, I should say, less bad. But you can judge for yourself. Here it is:
Anselmo praised this second sonnet as he had the first, and in this way he added one link after another to the chain with which he bound and fettered his dishonor, and when Lotario dishonored him the most, Anselmo told him he was most honored. And thus each step that Camila descended toward the center of her infamy, she was ascending—in the opinion of her husband—toward the summit of virtue and good reputation.
It happened that on one occasion, among others, when Camila was with her maid, she said to her: “I’m ashamed to think, Leonela, my friend, how little regard I have for myself since I didn’t force Lotario to wait longer in taking entire possession of what I gave him so quickly of my free will. I’m afraid that he’ll consider my swiftness only, without reflecting on the pressure he used on me so that I couldn’t resist him.”
“Don’t let this bother you, señora mía,” responded Leonela, “for it’s of no importance, nor does it diminish the preciousness of a gift to give it quickly, if what is given is valuable. And they even say that «he who gives quickly gives twice».”
“They also say,” said Camila, “that «what costs little is little valued».”
“That saying doesn’t apply to you,” responded Leonela, “because love, the way I hear it, sometimes flies in and sometimes walks; with this one it runs and with that one it dawdles; it tempers the passions in some; it wounds others; and still others it slays. At one and the same time it might begin its race of passions and in that same moment might end and finish it. In the morning it will lay siege to a fortress and in the evening it will have taken it, for there is no force that can resist it. And since that’s so, what’s so surprising? What do you fear? The same thing happened to Lotario, since love took the absence of my master as the instrument of our defeat. And it was necessary that during his absence what love had ordained should be concluded, without allowing time for Anselmo to come back, and cut the affair short by his arrival. Love has no better agent to carry out what it wants than opportunity, and it makes use of opportunity in all of its endeavors, especially at their beginning. I know all of this very well, more from experience than hearsay. And one day I’ll tell you about it, señora, for I also am young and made of flesh and blood. Moreover, señora Camila, you didn’t surrender so quickly that you first didn’t see Lotario’s whole soul in his eyes and sighs, and in his words, promises, and gifts, and seeing in his soul and in his virtues how worthy Lotario was to be loved. So, if this is true, don’t let these hypercritical and prudish thoughts trouble your affections, but rather rest assured that Lotario prizes you as you prize him, and he lives content and satisfied that since you fell into the amorous snare, he who caught you is of worth and honor, and he not only has the four Ss, that they say good lovers must possess, but of a whole alphabet. Just listen to me and you’ll see while I repeat it by heart. He is, the way I see it and the way it seems to me: «Amiable, Brave, Courteous, Distinguished, Eager, Faithful, Gay, Honorable, Illustrious, Kind, Loyal, Manly, Noble, Open, Polite, Quick, Rich,—you already know the Ss—, then Tender, Valiant, and Warm. The X doesn’t fit because it’s so harsh; the Y has already been given; and the Z, Zealous of your honor».”
Camila laughed at her maid’s alphabet, and took her for more practiced in things relating to love than she’d said. In fact, she confessed as much, revealing to Camila that she was having an affair with a well-born young man of that city. This troubled Camila, fearing this might cause her to risk her own honor. She implored her to say if their relationship had gone beyond words. Without shame and with much brazenness, she responded that they had, because it’s certain that the transgressions of mistresses make servants shameless, and they, when they see their mistresses make a false step, think nothing of slipping themselves, nor do they care if it’s known.
Camila could only beg Leonela not to say anything about her (Camila’s) affair with the man she said was her lover, and to have her own dealings in secret, so that neither Anselmo nor Lotario would find out about them. Leonela answered that she would do it. But she kept her word in such a way that she confirmed Camila’s fear that she would lose her reputation because of her maid. For this immodest and daring Leonela, after she saw that her mistress was doing things she hadn’t done before, had the audacity to take her own lover inside the house, confident that, even though her mistress might see him, she wouldn’t risk betraying him.
This is just one of the ways harm comes to mistresses because of their sins, for they become slaves of their own servants and are forced to conceal their maids’ bawdiness and depravity, as happened to Camila, who, although once, and even many times, she saw that Leonela was with her lover in one of the rooms of the house, not only didn’t she dare not scold her, but she gave her opportunities to conceal him, and she removed all impediments so that he wouldn’t be seen by her husband.
But she was unable to prevent him from being seen leaving once, at daybreak. At first Lotario, not knowing who he was, thought he was a phantom. But when he saw him walk away, covering his face with his cape and concealing himself carefully and cautiously, as well as he could, he went from one foolish thought to another, which would have brought the ruination of everyone, if Camila hadn’t found a remedy. It didn’t occur to Lotario that the man whom he’d seen leave Anselmo’s house at such an odd hour could have entered at Leonela’s bidding, nor did he even remember that there even was a Leonela. What he thought was that Camila, in the same way she’d been free and easy with him, was doing the same thing with another—such are the consequences brought about by the actions of a bad woman, for she’s even mistrusted by him through whose begging and persuasion she’s given herself, and he easily believes that she gives herself to others, and believes that every trivial suspicion that enters his mind is the absolute truth.
It would seem that Lotario instantly forgot his good judgment, and all his prudent maxims escaped his memory, for, without stopping to use his reasoning, without further ado, before Anselmo woke up, impatient and blind with jealous rage, with his entrails gnawing at him, and dying to take vengeance on Camila—who had not offended him in any way—he went to Anselmo and said: “You know, Anselmo, that for many days I’ve been struggling with myself, trying not to tell you what it’s now impossible for me to conceal. I want you to know that the fortress of Camila has surrendered to me and she’ll do whatever I want her to, and if I’ve delayed in telling you this truth, it has been because I wanted to see if it was just a little caprice of hers, or if she was doing it to try to test me and to see if my wooing—carried out with your permission—was done in earnest. I also believed that—if she were what she should be and what we both thought she was—I would have already told you of my suit. But since I saw that she was delaying, I recognize that the promise she made me that—when you’re away from the house again—she’ll speak to me in the bedroom where your jewels are,” and it’s true because Camila used to speak to him there. “But I don’t want you to take precipitous vengeance since no sin has been committed yet except in thought, and it may be that she’ll change her mind before that time comes, and she’ll show repentance. So, since you’ve taken my advice in whole or in part up to now, follow and take the advice I’ll give you now so that you can, with trust and confidence, satisfy yourself in this matter in whatever way you want. Pretend to go away for two or three days, as you have on other occasions, and hide in your bedroom since there are tapestries there and other things that can conceal you, and then you’ll be able to see with your own eyes, and I with mine, what Camila wants. And if it’s something bad, which is more to be feared than expected, in silence, caution, and discretion, you can be the avenger of the wrong.”
Anselmo was amazed, confounded, and stupefied when he heard what Lotario had to say, because it came to him when he least expected it, since he thought Camila was victorious over the feigned assaults by Lotario, and he was beginning to enjoy the glory of her victory. He remained silent for a good while, looking at the floor, and not moving even an eyelash, and then he said: “Lotario, you’ve acted as I expected of your friendship and I’ll follow your every suggestion. Do what you must, and keep the secret as you see it should be kept in such unexpected circumstances.”
Lotario promised to do so, and as soon as he left, he repented entirely for everything he’d said, seeing how foolish he’d been, since he could have taken vengeance on Camila himself in a less cruel and dishonorable way. He cursed his senselessness, condemned his hasty resolve, and didn’t know what course to take to undo what he’d done, or find some reasonable way out. He finally thought he would tell Camila everything; and since there was no lack of opportunity to do it, that same day he found her alone, and as soon as she saw him, she said: “I want you to know, Lotario, my friend, that I’m grieved in my heart, and it bothers me so much that I feel that my heart will burst, and it’s a wonder it hasn’t already. The audacity of Leonela has reached such a point that every night she lets a beau of hers into this house, and she’s with him until daybreak, at the expense of my reputation, since whoever sees him leave my house at such an unusual time will be free to make his own judgment about the situation. And what bothers me is that I can’t punish or scold her. Since she’s the guardian of the secret of our relationship, it has put a muzzle on my tongue about her own affair, and I fear that something bad is going to come of it.”
When Camila began saying this, Lotario thought it was just a trick to fool him into thinking that the man he’d seen leaving was Leonela’s lover and not her own. But when he saw how she wept and suffered, and asked him what to do, he came to see the truth, and wound up confused and filled with remorse about everything. He told Camila not to worry, that he would find a way to stop Leonela’s insolence. He also told her that, driven by the unbridled rage of jealousy, what he’d told Anselmo, and about the arrangement for Anselmo to hide in the bedroom to see plainly how unfaithful she was to him. He asked her to pardon him for this madness, and for advice as to how to remedy it and get out of such an intricate labyrinth that his bad conduct had placed him in.
Camila was alarmed by what Lotario was telling her, and with great anger and many just rebukes she reproached and reprimanded him for his uncalled-for suspicion and the simple and mischievous scheme he’d come up with. But since a woman has by nature a quicker mind both for good and bad things than a man does, although it fails them when they set about to reason deliberately, at that very instant, Camila found a way to remedy that seemingly irremediable affair, and she told Lotario to have Anselmo hide the very next day where he said, because she planned to take from his being hidden the means by which the two of them could enjoy each other from then on without any fear. And without revealing all her thoughts, she told him to make sure, once Anselmo was hidden, to come when Leonela called him, and that he should answer as if he didn’t know that Anselmo was listening. Lotario tried to get her to tell him her plan, so that he could do whatever he thought necessary with greater confidence and caution.
“I’m telling you,” said Camila, “that there is nothing to be cautious about, except to answer everything I’ll ask you truthfully,” for she didn’t want to reveal what she was going to ask beforehand, fearing that he wouldn’t want to carry out the plan that seemed so good to her, and that he would seek or try to devise something else that wouldn’t be as good.
Lotario went away then, and the next day Anselmo, with the excuse that he had to go to see his friend in the village, went out and then snuck back to hide himself, which he could easily do, because Camila and Leonela gave him the opportunity. When Anselmo was hidden, with the agitation one might imagine he would have, waiting to see with his own eyes the dissection of the entrails of his honor, and finding himself about to lose the model of goodness he thought he would find in Camila, and when Camila and Leonela were sure that Anselmo was hiding, they went into the bedroom and they had hardly stepped inside when Camila, heaving an enormous sigh, said: “Ay, Leonela my friend, before I do the thing I want to keep secret from you lest you try to stop me, wouldn’t it be better for you to take Anselmo’s dagger I’ve asked you to get, and plunge it into my miserable heart? But don’t do it, because it isn’t right for me to take the punishment for someone else’s guilt. First I want to know what the daring and lascivious eyes of Lotario saw in me so that it would make him dare to reveal to me so base a desire as the one he told me, in contempt of his friend and my honor. Go to the window, Leonela, and call him since he’s doubtless in the street waiting to put his evil intention into effect, but my cruel but honorable purpose will be carried out first.”
“Ay, señora mía,” responded the keen-witted and crafty Leonela, “what are you planning to do with this dagger? Do you want, perhaps, to take your own life or that of Lotario? Either one of these things will result in the loss of your reputation and good name. It would be better to disguise your offense, and not give this immoral man the opportunity to come into this house and find us alone. Look, señora, we’re weak women, and he’s a man, and a determined one at that, and since he’s coming with such a base purpose, blind with passion, maybe before you put your idea into effect, he’ll do something worse to you than taking your own life. Curses on my master Anselmo, who has made such a mistake in allowing this shameless fellow into his house! And, supposing, señora, you kill him—and I believe you ought to—what will we do with him after he’s dead?”
“What, my friend?” responded Camila. “We’ll leave him for Anselmo to bury since it’s only right that he should have the labor of putting his own dishonor beneath the earth. Summon him now, for the time I delay in taking due vengeance for my offense seems to me that I’m offending the loyalty I owe my husband.”
Anselmo was listening to all of this, and with every word that Camila said his mind changed, but when he heard that she was resolved to kill Lotario, he wanted to come out and reveal himself so that she wouldn’t do such a thing. But the desire to see how that bold and virtuous resolution would turn out stopped him, and he planned to come out in time to prevent that act. At that moment, Camila began to faint, and threw herself on the bed nearby, and Leonela began to weep bitterly, saying: “Woe is me! I’m so unlucky that the flower of chastity, the crown of good wives, the model of virtue, should die in my arms!” and other things similar to these, so that anyone listening to her would have taken her for the most sympathetic and faithful maid in the world and her mistress for a latter-day sought-after Penelope.
Soon, Camila came to and said: “Why don’t you go off and beckon the most loyal friend of a friend that the sun ever shone upon or the night concealed. Do it now, run, make haste, lest the delay diminish the fire of my rage, and I’ll see the just vengeance I want become nothing more than threats and curses.”
“I’m going right now to summon him, señora mía,” said Leonela, “but you must first give me the dagger so that you won’t do anything foolhardy while I’m gone that will cause those who love you to weep for the rest of their lives.”
“You can go in confidence, Leonela, my friend, that I won’t do anything,” responded Camila, “because though I may seem rash and foolish to you in trying to recover my honor, I won’t be so much so as Lucretia, who, they say, killed herself without having committed any sin, and without first having slain the man who was the cause of her disgrace. I’ll die if I have to, but I’ll first be satisfied that vengeance will be taken on him who led me to this state, to cry for his insolence, issuing from no blemish of my own.”
Leonela required considerable urging to go to fetch Lotario, but she finally left, and while she was on her way, Camila continued along as if speaking to herself: “God help me! Wouldn’t it have been better to have rejected Lotario, as I’ve done many times before, instead of putting him in the position I have, to think me lustful and wicked, even for the time I must wait to reveal the truth to him. It would doubtless be better, but I wouldn’t be avenged nor the honor of my husband vindicated if he were able to wash his hands of it and get out of this pass where his vile desires have led him. Let the traitor pay with his life for what he wanted to attempt out of lustful passion. Let the world know—if it should come to know—that Camila not only maintained her faithfulness to her husband, but also that she gave him vengeance on the one who tried to offend him. Still, I think it would be best to tell Anselmo, although I hinted at it in the letter I wrote him when he was at the village, but I think that since he didn’t do anything to fix the damage I pointed out to him, it must have been because he’s so good and trusting that he wouldn’t—he couldn’t—believe that such an unwavering friend could entertain even the smallest thought that was against his honor. And I didn’t believe it myself except after several days, nor would I ever have believed it, if his insolence hadn’t gone so far as to show it by those gifts, long-winded promises, and continual tears. But why am I making this long discourse? By chance does a bold resolve need such bolstering? Certainly not! Away with traitorous thoughts! Let vengeance come! Let the false friend come, approach, die, and be finished, and come what may! I was pure when I went into my marriage with the man that heaven gave me to be mine, and pure I shall leave it, even though I’ll leave it bathed in my own chaste blood and in the impure blood of the falsest friend that friendship ever saw.”
And as she said this she paced around the room with the unsheathed dagger in her hand, with wild and enormous strides and making such gestures that one would think she wasn’t a delicate woman, but rather a desperate ruffian.
Anselmo witnessed all of this, covered by some tapestries where he’d hidden, and he marveled at everything, and it seemed to him that what he saw and heard was enough to answer even greater suspicions, and the trial caused by Lotario’s arrival could be dispensed with, fearing some sudden accident; and he was at the point of showing himself and coming out to embrace and enlighten his wife when he saw that Leonela was returning, holding Lotario by his hand.
As soon as Camila saw him, she drew a line on the floor with the dagger in front of her and said: “Lotario, listen carefully to what I’m telling you—if by chance you step over this line, or when I see that you’re even coming toward it, I’ll stab myself in the chest instantly with this dagger; and before you say a single word, I want you to listen to some that I’ll say, and afterwards you can answer whatever you please. First, I want you to tell me, Lotario, if you know Anselmo, my husband, and what opinion you have of him. Next, I want to know also if you know me. Answer me this, don’t be nervous, nor think very much about what you’re going to say since the questions are not hard.”
Lotario was not so dull that from the instant Camila told him to hide Anselmo he realized what her intentions were, so he backed up her scheme so discreetly and so promptly that they made that lie look like more than the truth, and he answered Camila in this way: “I didn’t think, beautiful Camila, that you had me come here to ask me things so remote from the purpose for which I came. But if you’re doing it to put off the promised favor, you could have postponed it by means of a messenger, for the longed-for reward torments us more intensively as the hope of possessing it draws nearer. But so that you won’t say that I don’t answer your questions, I’ll tell you that I know your husband Anselmo, and the two of us have known each other since our earliest years. I won’t say anything about our friendship because you know all about it, and I have no wish to bear witness against myself for the offense that love is causing me to do to him, a powerful excuse for greater sins. I know you and I have the same opinion that he has of you, for if it weren’t so, given who I am, I wouldn’t have gone against who I am for a lesser reward, and also against the holy laws of true friendship, now broken and violated by an enemy as strong as love.”
“If you confess that—” responded Camila, “you mortal enemy of everything that rightly deserves to be loved—how do you dare come here before me, the mirror in which Anselmo sees himself, and in which you should also see yourself, to find out with what little cause you’re wronging him. But now I understand who has made you have so little respect for yourself. It must have been some flippant remark on my part—for I won’t call it indecency, since it couldn’t have been deliberate, but rather something careless—things we women do inadvertently when we think we don’t have to be cautious. But tell me, you traitor, when did I ever respond to your entreaties with any word or sign that could awaken in you the slightest shadow of hope for your base desires? When weren’t your amorous words rebuked and rejected severely and harshly by mine? When were your many promises and greater gifts believed or received by me? But since it seems to me that nobody can persevere in an attempt to win love when it’s not backed by some hope, I’m willing to attribute the guilt of your impertinence to myself, for doubtless some carelessness on my part has sustained your presumption. Therefore I’ll punish myself and give myself the blame your guilt deserves. And so you can see I won’t be more cruel to myself than I would be to you, I want you to be a witness to the sacrifice I plan to make for the offended honor of my respected husband, whom both of us have offended—you with your obstinate pursuit, and me by not fleeing from any occasion I might have given you to encourage and sanction your wicked intentions. I repeat that the suspicion I have that some carelessness on my part is at the root of your extravagant thoughts is what bothers me the most, and it’s that carelessness I want to punish with my own hands, because if another person were to do it, my guilt would be more widely known. But before I die, I want to satisfy my hope and desire for vengeance by killing and taking along with me the person who has reduced me to such a desperate strait; for wherever I go, be it heaven or hell, when I see the punishment that unswerving and imparcial Justice has given him, I’ll be quite satisfied.”
And saying these words, with incredible force and speed, she attacked Lotario with her unsheathed dagger, with such determination to stab his chest, that he wondered if that display was false or real, because he had to use all his skill and strength to prevent Camila from stabbing him, for she so vividly feigned that deception in which, in order to make it appear even more real, she determined to shed some of her own blood. When she saw or pretended that she couldn’t wound Lotario, she said: “Since Fate doesn’t want to satisfy my just desire at least it won’t rob me of partial satisfaction.”
And using all her strength, she was able to free her hand with the dagger, which Lotario had been holding fast, and pointing it where she could make a wound that was not too deep, she stabbed herself a little above the collarbone on the left side next to her shoulder, and then she let herself fall to the floor, as if she’d fainted.
Leonela and Lotario were amazed and astounded at what happened, and seeing Camila stretched out on the ground and bathed in her own blood, Lotario bounded over, aghast and out of breath, to remove the dagger, and when he saw how small the wound really was, the fear he had until then left him, and he again marveled at Camila’s shrewdness, acumen, and good sense. And so, to support the part he had to play, he began to make a long and sad lamentation on the body of Camila, as if she were dead, cursing not only himself, but also him who had placed him in that position. And since he knew that his friend Anselmo was listening, he said things so that he who was listening would pity him more than Camila, even though he had supposed that she was dead.
Leonela took her in her arms and placed her on the bed, begging Lotario to look for someone to attend to her in secret. She asked him as well what he advised her to tell Anselmo about her mistress’s wound, if he should return before it healed. He said that they could say whatever they wanted since he was not in a position to give useful advice. He only told her to try to stop the flow of blood since he was going away where he would never be seen again. And showing great grief and sorrow he left the house. When he found himself alone where no one would see him, he couldn’t stop crossing himself, marveling over the cleverness of Camila and the good acting on the part of Leonela. He reflected that Anselmo must consider himself to have as a wife a second Portia, and he longed to see him so that they could celebrate together the lie and the most counterfeit truth that ever could be imagined. Leonela stopped, as has been said, her mistress’ blood—which was no more than was necessary to support her deception—and washing the wound with a little wine, she bandaged it as well as she could, telling her things as she dressed the wound in a way that, even if nothing had been said beforehand, would have sufficed to convince Anselmo that he had in Camila the very image of purity.
Camila added her own words to Leonela’s, calling herself a coward and wanting in courage, since she lacked it just when it was most needed, to take her own life, which she despised. She asked advice of her maid if she should tell her husband or not about the whole matter, and the maid advised her not to, because he would then have to take vengeance on Lotario, which would have to be at great risk to himself, and a good woman was not supposed to give cause to her husband to come to blows, but rather to prevent them as best she could.
Camila responded that she was right and that she would follow her advice, but in any case they needed to find an excuse for the wound, which he couldn’t fail to notice, to which Leonela responded that she—Camila—didn’t know how to tell a lie, even in jest.
“So, sister,” replied Camila, “what can I do since I don’t dare to forge or sustain a lie even if my life depended on it? And if we can’t find a proper solution to this, it will be better to tell him the naked truth so that he wouldn’t discover us in a lying fable.”
“Don’t worry, señora, for by this time tomorrow,” replied Leonela, “I’ll think of what to say, and maybe because the wound is where it is, it can be hidden from his sight, and heaven will favor our just and honorable purpose. Calm down, señora, and try to steady your nerves, so that my master won’t find you this way, and leave the rest to me and to God, who always supports good intentions.”
Anselmo was listening to and watching carefully this dramatized tragedy of the death of his honor that the actors performed so powerfully that it seemed to him that what they were playing represented the truth. He could hardly wait for night to fall and an opportunity for him to escape from his house and see his good friend Lotario, so they could congratulate themselves about the precious pearl he’d found in the test of his wife’s virtue. The two women were careful to give him the chance to get away, and he—not losing that chance—went out and immediately went to find Lotario, and when he found him, one cannot count the embraces that he gave him, recount the things he said to him, or the praises that he had for Camila. Lotario listened to all this without showing any signs of gladness, because he reflected how deceived his friend was, and how cruelly he’d wronged him. Anselmo saw that Lotario did not rejoice, but he believed it was because Camila had wounded herself and that he’d been the cause.
So he told him, among other things, not to worry about what had happened with Camila, because the wound was doubtless superficial, since they were trying to find a way to conceal it from him, so he had nothing to fear, except from then on Lotario could rejoice and be glad with him, since by Lotario’s cleverness, and because of him, he’d risen to the greatest level of happiness that he could hope to wish for, and he wanted for their only pastime to write poems in praise of Camila, so that they could make her famous for all time. Lotario praised his good purpose and said that he would do his part in building such a noble edifice.
And so Anselmo became the most deliciously deceived man in the world. He himself took the destroyer of his good name to his house, leading him by the hand, believing him to be the instrument of his glory. Camila received Lotario with her face averted, although with a smiling heart. This deception lasted some time, until after a few months the wheel of Fortune turned again, and the guilt that had been so cleverly concealed, came to be known everywhere, and his ill-advised curiosity cost Anselmo his life.