“At last I am in a fit state to answer you about your baron from Mayence. I have taken a few hours to settle my bile, and I am now cool enough to write and tell you the vengeance you propose to take is too small, even if I have sinned as much as you think; but my oaths, attested by Gohr and d’Els, whom I can call as witnesses, must surely convince you that Stubenfol lied. Don’t you think you have been a little quick to take your revenge? I must needs send my witnesses, since you will not believe my word of honour. In any case, I will never forgive your tricks with the baron. Your natural tendency shows itself again. You are only too glad to seize any pretext for flirting; you would rather die than miss the chance. What am I to think of you? You know my weakness: I am naturally jealous, and such behaviour as yours makes me a hundred times worse. How many times have you urged me not to give way to violence, but first to hear your excuses and the truth? If you were piqued about my supper, why didn’t you write and scold me as much as you liked? But no! you were too charmed with the baron; he is young, well made, handsome, and captivates you,—that is why you find, or pretend to find, my conduct so guilty. Oh! it is too much! I can no longer deceive myself. Your letter of Friday confirms my worst fears. Your excuses for not coming here do not deceive me. You are the most unfaithful of women. Go to, cruel one! and flirt with your new cavalier. Why have you held me so long with your deceitful airs and promises? Why have I sacrificed everything for you? You are not content to take away my peace of mind, but you rob me of my honour, my reputation, and all I have in the world. Is it not for such as you that I have neglected everything? You know the state of my affairs. I am well rewarded, truly! I will fly from Hanover, where I might meet you. Did not my house force me to stay here, I would leave to-morrow. I hope, however, to find an honourable pretext for getting away; and should the Danes confiscate my lands in Holstein, that will serve. Madame, I am not dishonest, like you. I will send you back everything I have belonging to you, and as soon as I get to Hamburg I will take counsel with my friends as to my future plans. I will return to my own people, and though I may have neglected them the future shall make amends. ‘The continual ceremonies in which I shine’ are with my dragoons; I am with them every day, drilling them, and for three days I have not been anywhere except to the hunt, in which I take part every day. Have I not always given you the choice of coming here or staying at Celle? I did it on purpose to see if you had sufficient love to risk coming; but I soon saw something was keeping you back, though I was ignorant of its being a ‘handsome, well-built young baron’. You now ask me to tell you positively what you are to do.