of the tranquil peace of love! jealousy, knife of the firmest hopes! I know not what he could know of lineage who made thee child of love, since thou art so much the contrary, that, for that very reason, love would have ceased to be love, had it begotten such children. Oh jealousy, hypocrite and false thief! seeing that, in order that account may be taken of thee in the world, as soon as thou seest any spark of love born in any breast, thou seekest to mingle with it, changing thyself to its colour, and even seekest to usurp from it the lordship and dominion it has. Hence it comes that as men see thee so united with love, though by thy results thou showest that thou art not love itself, yet thou seekest to give the ignorant man to understand that thou art love's son, though in truth thou art born from a low suspicion, begotten by a vile and ill-starred fear, nurtured at the breast of false imaginings, growing up amidst vilest envies, sustained by slanders and falsehoods. And that we may see the ruin caused in loving hearts by this cursed affliction of raging jealousy, when the lover is jealous, it behoves him, with the leave of jealous lovers be it said, it behoves him, I say, to be, as he is, traitorous, cunning, truculent, slanderous, capricious, and even ill-bred; and so far extends the jealous rage that masters him, that the person he loves most is the one to whom he wishes the most ill. The jealous lover would wish that his lady were fair for him alone, and ugly for all the world; he desires that she may not have eyes to see more than he might wish, nor ears to hear, nor tongue to speak; that she may be retiring, insipid, proud and ill-mannered; and at times he even desires, oppressed by this devilish passion, that his lady should die, and that all should end. All these passions jealousy begets in the minds of jealous lovers; the opposite to the virtues which pure and simple love multiplies in true and courteous lovers, for in the breast of a good lover are enclosed discretion, valour, generosity, courtesy, and all that can make him praiseworthy in the eyes of men. At the same time the force of this cruel poison contains yet more, for there is no antidote to preserve it, counsel to avail it, friend to aid it, nor excuse to fit it; all this is contained in the jealous lover, and more--every shadow terrifies him, every trifle disturbs him, and every suspicion, false or true, undoes him. And to all this misfortune another is added, namely, the excuses that deceive him. And since there is no other medicine than excuses for the disease of jealousy, and since the jealous man suffering from it does not wish to admit them, it follows that this disease is without remedy, and should be placed before all others. And thus it is my opinion that Orfenio is the most afflicted, but not the most in love; for jealousy is not the token of much love, but of much ill-advised curiosity. And if it is a token of love, it is like fever