Therese's letter had entirely upset all my ideas, and, feeling that I could not answer it a once, I told the messenger to call the next day.
Two motives of equal weight kept the balance wavering; self-love and love for Therese.

I felt that I ought not to require Therese to give up such prospects of fortune; but I could not take upon myself either to let her go to Naples without me, or to accompany her there.

On one side, I shuddered at the idea that my love might ruin Therese's prospects; on the other side, the idea of the blow inflicted on my self-love, on my pride, if I went to Naples with her, sickened me.
How could I make up my mind to reappear in that city, in the guise of a cowardly fellow living at the expense of his mistress or his wife?
What would my cousin Antonio, Don Polo and his dear son, Don Lelio Caraffa, and all the patricians who knew me, have said?
The thought of Lucrezia and of her husband sent a cold shiver through me.

I considered that, in spite of my love for Therese, I should become very miserable if everyone despised me.

Linked to her destiny as a lover or as a husband, I would be a degraded, humbled, and mean sycophant.