dishonour; the laws were to be put in operation against me, or what
masqueraded as laws; worse than death would have been my portion had he
not intervened and saved me. He had been ill-advised perhaps in the
manner of doing; but I was to reflect--was not secrecy essential? He
owned that my obstinate refusal of his company had angered him,
stretched as he was by anxiety, to the point of laying violent hands
upon me with his girdle. "These cords," he said, "which were meant to
remind us of our humility, are too convenient ministers of our lust. But
the remedy for my great offence is easy." He again took off the girdle
and put it in my hands. He took off his habit and knelt before me in a
woollen shirt. "Smite, Don Francis," said he, "and fear nothing. Smite
in token of forgiveness. As you are generous, smite."

I hope he found me generous enough, for I did smite him with all my
force; whether he felt forgiven or no, this did me a power of good. I
had the satisfaction of cutting his shirt to ribbons and of drawing
blood from him, a satisfaction which now seems to me wholly unlike my
nature, and quite unworthy of my position. He bore it with exemplary
cheerfulness, singing sacred songs softly to himself, only pausing in
these pious exercises to encourage me to hit him harder. "Hey, but that
was a shrewd one; that went home! Nerve yourself, Don Francis, courage
and resolve! A little lower, my son, nearer to the buttock. There! a
proud patch there--ho ho! but you're into it!" and so on. At the end,
when I sank back exhausted, bathed in sweat, he sprang towards me, put
his arms about me and kissed me. "Dear Francis, beloved friend," he said
warmly, "how can old Palamone thank you enough for your noble work? By
devoted service? It is yours. By more than brotherly love? You have it.
One thing at least is clear: we can never be separated after this."

Nothing could be clearer to me than that we must be separated