I could bear no more; the forces of nature were exhausted, and I was
obliged to lie down and take a little broth, and court that sleep which
refused to come. A thousand designs came to my disordered imagination. I
rejected them one by one, only to devise new ones. I would slay this
Blondel, who had carried off a woman who was mine and mine only; who was
all but my wife. Her treachery should be punished by her losing the
object for whom she had deserted me. I accused her father, I cursed her
brother for having left me in ignorance of the insult which had so
traitorously been put upon me.

I spent the day and night in these delirious thoughts, and in the
morning, feeling worse than ever, I sent to M. d'O---- to say that I could
not possibly leave my room. Then I began to read and re-read the letters
I had written to Manon, calling upon her name in a sort of frenzy; and
again set myself to write to her without finishing a single letter. The
emptiness of my stomach and the shock I had undergone began to stupefy
me, and for a few moments I forgot my anguish only to re-awaken to acuter
pains soon after.

About three o'clock, the worthy M. d'O---- came to invite me to go with
him to the Hague, where the chief masons of Holland met on the day
following to keep the Feast of St. John, but when he saw my condition he
did not press me to come.

"What is the matter with you, my dear Casanova?" said he.

"I have had a great grief, but let us say no more about it."

He begged me to come and see Esther, and left me looking almost as
downcast as I was. However, the next morning Esther anticipated my visit,