In short, she made a choice, and chose badly, for she resolved to remain, determined not to flee Lotario's presence and give the servants reason to gossip; she regretted having written what she wrote to her husband, fearful he would think that Lotario had seen some boldness in her that moved him to treat her with less than proper decorum. But, confident of her virtue, she put her trust in God and in her own innocence and planned to resist with silence everything that Lotario said to her, not informing her husband in order to spare him disputes or difficulties. She even tried to think of a way to excuse Lotario to Anselmo when he asked her the reason for writing that letter. With these thoughts, more honorable than accurate or beneficial, she spent another day listening to Lotario, who was so persistent and persuasive that Camila's resolve began to waver, and it was all her virtue could do to attend to her eyes and keep them from showing any sign of the amorous compassion awakened in her bosom by Lotario's tears and words. Lotario noted all of this, and it all set him ablaze.
Finally, it seemed to him that it was necessary, in the time and circumstance allowed by Anselmo's absence, to tighten the siege around the fortress, and so he launched an attack on her conceit with praises of her beauty, because there is nothing more likely to defeat and bring down the haughty towers of beautiful women's vanity than that same vanity, set in words of adulation. In effect, with utmost diligence, he undermined the rock face of her integrity with such effective tools that even if Camila had been made entirely of bronze, she would have fallen. Lotario wept, pleaded, offered, adored, persisted, and deceived with so much emotion and so many signs of sincerity that he brought down Camila's chastity and won the victory he had least expected and most desired.
Camila surrendered; Camila surrendered, but is that any wonder if the friendship of Lotario could not remain standing? A clear example demonstrating that the only way to defeat the amorous passion is to flee it, that no one should attempt to struggle against so powerful an enemy because divine forces are needed to vanquish its human ones. Only Leonela knew of her mistress's frailty, because the two unfaithful friends and new lovers could not hide it from her. Lotario did not want to tell Camila of Anselmo's scheme, or that Anselmo had provided him with the opportunity to come so far: he did not want her to have a low opinion of his love, or to think he had courted her thoughtlessly and by chance rather than intentionally.
A few days later, Anselmo returned to his house and did not notice what was missing, the thing he had treated most contemptuously and valued most highly. He went to see Lotario immediately and found him at home; the two men embraced, and one asked for the news that would give him either life or death.
"The news I can give you, Anselmo my friend," said Lotario, "is that you have a wife worthy of being the model and paragon of all virtuous women. The words I said to her were carried away by the wind; my offers were scorned, my gifts were refused, and a few feigned tears of mine were mocked beyond measure. In short, just as Camila is the sum total of all beauty, she is the treasure house where chastity dwells and discretion and modesty reside, along with all the virtues that make an honorable woman praiseworthy and fortunate. Here is your money, friend; take it back, for I never had need of it; Camila's integrity does not yield to things as low as presents or promises. Be content, Anselmo, and do not attempt more tests; since you have passed through the sea of difficulties and suspicions that one often can have about women, and you have kept your feet dry, do not attempt to return to the deep waters of new dangers, or test, with another pilot, the virtue and strength of the ship that heaven has provided to carry you across the seas of this world; realize instead that you are in a safe harbor; drop the anchors of reason and stay in port until you are asked to pay the debt that no human, no matter how noble, can avoid paying."
Anselmo was made very happy by Lotario's words, and he believed them as if they had been spoken by an oracle. Even so, he asked his friend not to abandon the undertaking, if only for the sake of curiosity and amusement, and even if he no longer brought to it the same zeal and urgency as before; he only wanted Lotario to write some verses in praise of Camila, calling her Clori, and Anselmo would tell her that Lotario was in love with a lady to whom he had given this name so that he could celebrate her with the decorum her modesty required. And if Lotario did not wish to take the trouble of writing the verses, Anselmo would do it.
"That will not be necessary," said Lotario, "for the Muses are not so antagonistic to me that they do not visit me a few times a year. Tell Camila what you said about my fictitious love, and I shall compose the verses, and if they are not as good as the subject deserves, at least they will be the best I can write."
The reckless man and his traitorous friend agreed to this, and when Anselmo returned to his house, he asked what, to Camila's great surprise, he had not asked before, which was that she tell him the reason she had written him the letter. Camila responded that it had seemed Lotario was looking at her somewhat more boldly than when Anselmo was at home, but she had been mistaken and believed it had been her imagination, because now Lotario avoided seeing her and being alone with her. Anselmo said she could be sure of that, because he knew that Lotario was in love with a noble maiden in the city, whom he celebrated under the name of Clori; even if he were not, there was no reason to doubt Lotario's truthfulness or his great friendship for the two of them. If Lotario had not warned Camila that his love for Clori was all pretense, and that he had told Anselmo about it so that he could spend some time writing praises of Camila herself, she undoubtedly would have been caught in the desperate net of jealousy, but she had been forewarned, and this unexpected piece of news did not trouble her.
The next day, when the three of them were sitting at the table after their meal, Anselmo asked Lotario to recite one of the pieces he had composed for his beloved Clori; since Camila did not know her, he surely could say whatever he wished.
"Even if she did know her," responded Lotario, "I would not hide anything, because when a lover praises his lady's beauty and censures her cruelty, he in no way brings dishonor to her good name; but, be that as it may, I can say that yesterday I composed a sonnet to the ingratitude of Clori, and it says:
SONNET
In the deepest quietude of the night,
when gentle sleep embraces mortal men,
I make this poor accounting of my wealth
of woes to heaven, and to Clori mine.
And at the hour when the sun appears
through rosy-colored portals of the east,
with brokenhearted sighs and halting words
I endlessly renew the old lament.
And when the sun, from his celestial throne,
hurls burning rays directly down to earth,
my tears flow free and my sobs do increase.
The night returns; I turn to my sad tale
and once more find, in wearisome complaint,
that heaven is deaf and Clori cannot hear."
Camila liked the sonnet, but Anselmo liked it even more, for he praised it and said that a lady who did not respond to such evident truths was too cruel. To which Camila said:
"Then, everything said by enamored poets is true?"
"Insofar as they are poets, no," responded Lotario, "but insofar as they are enamored, they are always as lost for words as they are truthful."
"There is no doubt about that," replied Anselmo, simply to support and confirm Lotario's opinions before Camila, who was unaware of Anselmo's stratagem and already in love with Lotario.
And so, with the pleasure she derived from everything relating to him, and with the understanding that his desires and his writings were directed to her, and that she was the real Clori, she asked him to recite another sonnet and more verses, if he knew them by heart.
"I do," responded Lotario, "but I do not believe it is as good as--I mean, it is less bad than--the first. But judge for yourself, because it says:
SONNET
I know I die; and if my word is doubted,
my death's more certain; my body lying dead
at your feet, O cruel beauty, is more certain
than my repenting of my love for you.
When I am in the land of the forgotten,
deserted by glory, favor, and by life,
there, in my open bosom, you will see,
a sculpted image of your lovely face.
I keep this holy relic for the looming
rigors brought on and caused by my persistence,
made stronger by the harshness of your will.
Oh, woe to him who sails 'neath darkened skies
across uncharted seas and dangerous routes
where neither port nor polestar lights the way."
Anselmo praised this second sonnet as he had the first, and in this fashion he was adding, link by link, to the chain that bound and fastened him to his dishonor, for the more Lotario dishonored him, the more honored he said Anselmo was, and every step Camila took in her descent to the very center of disgrace was, in the opinion of her husband, an ascent to the pinnacle of her virtue and good name.
It happened that once, when Camila found herself alone with her maid, she said:
"I am mortified, my dear Leonela, to see how lightly I valued myself, for I did not even oblige Lotario to pay with time for the complete possession of my desire; I gave it to him so quickly, I fear he will judge only my haste or indiscretion, not taking into account that he urged me so strongly I could no longer resist him."
"Do not be concerned, Senora," responded Leonela. "Giving quickly is of little significance, and no reason to lessen esteem, if, in fact, what one gives is good and in itself worthy of esteem. They even say that by giving quickly, one gives twice."
"They also say," said Camila, "that what costs less is valued less."
"The argument doesn't apply to you," responded Leonela, "because love, I've heard it said, sometimes flies and sometimes walks; it runs with one, and goes slowly with another; it cools some and burns others; some it wounds, and others it kills; it begins the rush of its desires at one point, and at the same point it ends and concludes them; in the morning it lays siege to a fortress, and by nightfall it has broken through, because there is no power that can resist it. And this being true, why are you concerned and what do you fear if the same thing must have happened to Lotario, for love used the absence of my master as the instrument for overcoming us.1 It was inevitable that what love had planned would be concluded before Anselmo could return and prevent the design's completion by his presence, because love has no better minister for carrying out his desires than opportunity: he makes use of opportunity in everything he does, especially at the beginning. I know this very well, more from experience than from hearsay, and one day I'll tell you about it, Senora, for I'm also young and made of flesh and blood. Besides, Senora Camila, you would not have given yourself or surrendered so quickly if you had not first seen in Lotario's eyes, words, sighs, promises, and gifts all his soul, or not seen in it and its virtues how worthy Lotario was of being loved. If this is true, do not allow those qualms and second thoughts to assault your imagination, but be assured that Lotario esteems you as you esteem him, and live contented and satisfied that although you were caught in the snare of love, it is he who tightens it around you with his admiration and esteem. He not only has the four Ss2 that people say good lovers need to have, but a whole alphabet as well; if you don't believe me, just listen and you'll see how I can recite it to you by heart. He is, as I see it and in my opinion, Amiable, Benevolent, Courteous, Dignified, Enamored, Firm, Gallant, Honorable, Illustrious, Loyal, Manly, Noble, Openhearted, Pleasing, Quick-witted, Rich, the Ss that everybody knows, and then Truthful, Valiant, X isn't included because it's a harsh letter, Y is the same as I, and Z is Zealous in protecting your honor."
Camila laughed at her maid's alphabet and considered her more experienced in matters of love than she said; in fact, she confessed to this, revealing to Camila her love for a wellborn young man from their city; this troubled Camila, for she feared that here was where her honor could be endangered. She pressed Leonela to find out if their love had gone beyond words. With little shame and a good deal of audacity, she responded that it had. For it is certainly true that negligence in ladies destroys shame in their maids: when they see their mistresses stumble, they do not care if they stumble, too, or if anyone knows about it.
All that Camila could do was to implore Leonela not to say anything about her mistress's affair to the man she said was her lover, and to keep her own secret so that it would not come to the attention of either Anselmo or Lotario. Leonela responded that she would, but she kept her word in a way that affirmed Camila's fear that she would lose her reputation because of her maid, for the immodest and brazen Leonela, when she saw that her mistress's behavior was not what it had once been, dared to bring her lover into the house and keep him there, confident that even if Camila saw him, she would not venture to reveal it; this is one of the many misfortunes caused by the sins of ladies: they become the slaves of their own servants and are obliged to conceal their maids' immodest and base behavior, which is what happened to Camila; although she often saw Leonela with her lover in one of the rooms of her house, she not only did not dare to reprimand her, but provided Leonela with the opportunity to hide him, clearing away every obstacle so that he would not be seen by her husband.
But she could not keep Lotario from seeing him one day as he left the house at dawn; Lotario did not know who he was and at first thought it was a ghost, but when he saw him walk, and muffle his face, and conceal himself with care and caution, he abandoned his simple idea and took up another that would have meant the ruin of them all if Camila had not rectified it. Lotario thought that the man he had seen leaving Anselmo's house at so unusual an hour had not gone there because of Leonela; he did not even remember that there was a Leonela in the world; he be-lieved only that Camila, who had been easy and loose with him, was being just as easy and loose with another man, for the immorality of the immoral woman brings with it this effect: she loses her good name and honor with the very man to whose entreaties and enticements she succumbed; he believes she surrenders more easily to other men and takes as absolute truth any suspicion of the kind that may occur to him. It certainly seems that at this point Lotario lost his good sense and forgot all his skillful reasoning; without a second or even a rational thought, filled with impatience and blinded by the jealous rage gnawing at his entrails and driving him to take his revenge on Camila, who in no way had offended him, he went to see Anselmo, who was still in bed, and said:
"You should know, Anselmo, that for many days I have been struggling with myself, forcing myself not to tell you what it is no longer possible or fair to keep from you. You should know that the fortress of Camila has surrendered and submitted to everything I wished, and if I have delayed in disclosing this to you, it was to see if it was a passing whim, or if she was testing me to see if I was serious about the love I had, with your permission, begun to declare for her. I also believed that if she was as virtuous as she should have been and as we both thought she was, she would already have told you about my solicitations; seeing that she has not, I realize that the promises she has made to me are true, and that the next time you are absent from you house, she will speak to me in the antechamber where you keep your jewels and treasure"--it was true that Camila usually spoke to him there--"but I do not want you to rush off to take your revenge, because the sin has not yet been committed except in thought, and it may be that when the time comes to turn the thought into action, Camila will have changed her mind and replaced the thought with repentance. Therefore, since you have always followed my advice, completely or in part, take the counsel I will give you now, so that prudently forewarned, and with no chance of being deceived, you may be satisfied regarding the best course of action to follow. Pretend that you are leaving for two or three days, as you have in the past, but stay hidden in your antechamber, where there are tapestries and other things that can conceal you very c
omfortably; then you will see with your own eyes, and I with mine, exactly what Camila wants; and if it is the immorality that may be feared but is not expected, then silently, wisely, and discreetly you can punish the offense committed against you."
Anselmo was bewildered, perplexed, and astonished by Lotario's words, for they came at the moment when he least expected to hear them: he now considered Camila to be victorious over the feigned assaults of Lotario, and he was beginning to enjoy the glory of her triumph. He said nothing for a long time, staring at the floor, not blinking an eye, and then at last he spoke, saying:
"You have done, Lotario, what I expected of your friendship; I shall follow your advice in everything; arrange matters as you wish and keep the secret as it should be kept in so unexpected a circumstance."
Lotario promised he would, and as he left the room, he repented completely for everything he had said, and he saw how foolishly he had behaved, since he could take his own revenge on Camila and not in so cruel and dishonorable a way. He cursed his lack of intelligence, denounced his hasty decision, and did not know by what means he could undo what he had done or give it a more reasonable outcome. Finally, he decided to tell Camila everything, and since there was no lack of opportunity, he found her alone that same day, and as soon as she saw that she could speak freely, she said to him:
"You should know, friend Lotario, that my heart aches so much it seems it is about to break inside my bosom, and it will be a miracle if it does not, for Leonela's shamelessness has grown so great that she brings her lover into this house every night, and is with him until daybreak, putting my reputation at the greatest risk if anyone were to see him leaving my house at that hour. What troubles me is that I cannot punish or reprimand her: she is privy to our affair, and that has curbed my speech and forced me to be silent about hers, and I am afraid this will give rise to some misfortune."
When Camila first began to speak, Lotario believed it was a ruse to convince him that the man he had seen was Leonela's lover, not hers, but when he saw her weep, and grieve, and ask for his help, he believed the truth and then felt completely bewildered and remorseful. Despite this, however, he told Camila not to worry, saying he would devise a plan to put an end to Leonela's insolence. He also told her what, in his jealous rage, he had said to Anselmo, and how it had been agreed that Anselmo would hide in the antechamber and see her lack of fidelity for himself. He begged her forgiveness for this act of madness and asked her advice on how to repair the damage he had done and emerge safely from the intricate labyrinth into which his foolish talk had led them.