How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. It doesn’t mean that these men deserve to die for whatever they have done, John. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question. We'll lather him with mud, shave him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua pompaginis. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind. I would that you were my own. For all you might know, I might have someone watching you.
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