All these years I have been judging Judith with an
ignorance as cruel as it has been complacent. Verily I have been
the fag end of wisdom. So I forbear to judge her now.
If I had loved Judith with the great passion of a man's love for
woman, not all the converted rascals in Christendom could have
come between us.
And her seeing Carlotta--poor woman--what does it matter? What
did she say about Carlotta? "She laughed and threw stones at a
little dog."
Oh, my God!
November 12th
This way madness lies. I will leave the house in charge of
Stenson and Antoinette and go abroad. Something has put Verona
into my head. One place is as good as another, so long as it is
not this house--this house of death and madness and crime--and
Verona is in Italy, where I have always found peace.
I will confess my madness. This book is a record of my morals
--the finished version of the farce the high gods have called on
meto play. I thought last night the curtain was rung down. I
was wrong. Listen, and laugh as I do--if you can.
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