mumbled Muzio, in a singsong, as though in a state
of unconsciousness.
Fabio retreated a couple of paces, fixed his eyes
on Muzio, meditated for a space ... and returned to
his house, to the bed-chamber.
With her head inclined upon her shoulder, and her
arms helplessly outstretched, Valeria was sleeping
heavily. He did not speedily succeed in waking
her ... but as soon as she saw him she flung herself
on his neck, and embraced him convulsively; her whole
body was quivering.
“What aileth thee, my dear one, what aileth
thee?” said Fabio repeatedly, striving to soothe
her.
But she continued to lie as in a swoon on his breast.
“Akh, what dreadful visions I see!” she
whispered, pressing her face against him.
Fabio attempted to question her ... but she merely
trembled....
The window-panes were reddening with the first gleams
of dawn when, at last, she fell asleep in his arms.
On the following day Muzio disappeared early in the
morning, and Valeria informed her husband that she
intended to betake herself to the neighbouring monastery,
where dwelt her spiritual father—an aged
and stately monk, in whom she cherished unbounded
confidence. To Fabio’s questions she replied
that she desired to alleviate by confession her soul,
which was oppressed with the impressions of the last
few days. As he gazed at Valeria’s sunken
visage, as he listened to her faint voice, Fabio himself
approved of her plan: venerable Father Lorenzo
might be able to give her useful advice, disperse
her doubts.... Under the protection of four escorts,
Valeria set out for the monastery, but Fabio remained
at home; and while awaiting the return of his wife,
he roamed about the garden, trying to understand what
had happened to her, and feeling the unremitting terror
and wrath and pain of indefinite suspicions....
More than once he entered the pavilion; but Muzio had
not returned, and the Malay stared at Fabio like a
statue, with an obsequious inclination of his head,
and a far-away grin—at least, so it seemed
to Fabio—a far-away grin on his bronze countenance.
In the meantime Valeria had narrated everything in
confession to her confessor, being less ashamed than
frightened. The confessor listened to her attentively,
blessed her, absolved her from her involuntary sins,—but
thought to himself: “Magic, diabolical witchcraft
... things cannot be left in this condition".... and
accompanied Valeria to her villa, ostensibly for the
purpose of definitely calming and comforting her.
