Meanwhile an unlucky encounter with his rival, to whom he is forced to give way, rouses him to revenge against Dorothea; and fate puts the occasion in his hands. By mistake he sends her a letter from Marfisa to himself; a violent quarrel ensues; and they part to meet no more. A friend of Fernando prophesies to him the sequel of these disasters; he tells him that he will be persecuted by Dorothea and her mother, and thrown into prison, but afterwards liberated and banished; before this he will have become attached to a young lady, whom he will marry to the discontent of the relations on both sides. She will accompany him in his banishment with great constancy and love, but will die. He will then return to Madrid, Dorothea being then a widow, and will wish to marry him, but his honour has more influence over him than her riches, and he will refuse her. He will afterwards be very unfortunate in love, but by help of prayer will extricate himself, and enter another state of life. Marfisa will again marry a literary man, who will leave the kingdom with an honourable employment, but she will soon again be a widow, and then marrying a Spanish soldier, she will be very unhappy, and at last be assassinated by her husband in a fit of jealousy. Fernando is astonished at these prophecies, and announces his intention of joining the Invincible Armada. Dorothea, on her side, is teaching herself no longer to love him; she breaks his portrait, and burns his letters. But while she is looking forward to happiness with don Belia, he is killed in a duel. She rushes out in despair, and Gerarda falls into a well, and is drowned. "And thus ends Dorothea," says the author, "the rest being only the misfortunes of Fernando; the poet could not fail in the truth, for the story is true. Look at the example, for which end it is written." All this strange medley of a story is told in dialogue, much of which is spirited and natural, but much, very much, pedantic, and beyond expression tedious. By some means, despite her misconduct, we are interested in Dorothea; she is so frank, so beautiful, so generous; while Fernando is, on the contrary, an object of contempt. He takes the money of Dorothea, and then angry at the first mention she makes of her mother's interference, he flies from her rather in revenge than in grief: throughout he is selfish and ungenerous.