As soon as I was out of my prison I had my supper, and the unfortunate lover kept me company.

He told me that Catinella had found a moment to promise him that she would return within six weeks, that she was shedding tears in giving him that assurance, and that she had kissed him with great tenderness.
"Has the prince paid her expenses ?" "Not at all.

We would not have allowed him to do it, even if he had offered.

My future wife would have felt offended, for you can have no idea of the delicacy of her feelings." "What does your father say of her departure ?" "My father always sees the worst side of everything; he says that she will never come back, and my mother shares his opinion rather than mine.
But you, signor maestro, what do you think ?" "That if she has promised to return, she will be sure to keep her word." "Of course; for if she did not mean to come back, she would not have given me her promise." "Precisely; I call that a good argument." I had for my supper what was left of the meal prepared by the count's cook, and I drank a bottle of excellent Rhenish wine which Catinella had juggled away to treat her intended husband, and which the worthy fellow thought could not have a better destination than to treat his future cousin.

After supper I took post-horses and continued my journey, assuring the unhappy, forlorn lover that I would do all I could to persuade my cousin to come back very soon.