ABSTRACT
This chapter reproduces the text from Chapter VIII of Ada Reis, Volume II. Fiormonda sat at her window, and saw the procession pass: the light of the torches fell upon the beautiful features of Alphonso. She watched the funeral train; she heard the tolling of the distant knell; she felt that she had lost a faithful friend. The custom of rejoicing upon the night of any great funeral was common at Lima, as in many other places, but it was seldom that any person of rank assisted at these lawless revels. Condulmar’s familiar air, his jests, lowered from the refinement of wit to the vulgar coarseness of his society, his indifference shown so plainly either to Fiormonda’s conduct or her reputation, his perverted laugh of malignity and scorn, were all so many causes of misery to the woman who still adored him with the folly, enthusiasm, and romance of raw and unadvised youth.
