TO DONA SANCHA
Dona Sancha, I beg you not to read this book; or, if you have read it as far as here, give up the rest. You only need to close it, though it would be better to burn it so as not to be tempted to open it again. If, despite my warning, you decide to read on to the end, the blame is yours, and I shall not answer for what you may suffer. What you may have suffered already, through my account of what happened that Saturday, is finished and done with, since events and I myself dispelled my illusion. But what touches you now will be indelible. No, my friend, read no more. Grow old with neither husband nor daughter; I, too, do the same thing, which is all that remains to be done once youth is gone. One day we shall go from here to the gates of heaven, where we shall meet again, our new selves, like fresh plants,
… comepiante novelle,
Rinovellate di novellefronde …
The rest is in Dante.