e she
does not love him! It's her own fault. Why did she not tell me the
truth?

_Geltrude._ What are you doing here, niece?

[Candida _and_ Susanna _rise._]

_Susanna._ She is condescending to accord me her company.

_Candida._ I came to see if she sold nightcaps.

_Susanna._ Yes, it is true, she asked me about some. Oh, do not fear
that your niece is not safe with me. I am no chatterbox, and my house is
most respectable.

_Geltrude._ Do not justify yourself without being accused.

_Susanna._ I am very sensitive, Signora.

_Geltrude._ Why did you not tell me you needed a nightcap?

_Candida._ You were in your writing-room, and I did not wish to disturb
you.

_Susanna._ Would you like to see it? I will go and get it. I pray, sit
down. [_Gives her chair to_ Geltrude, _and goes into the shop._]

_Geltrude._ [_Seating herself, to_ Candida.] Have you heard nothing of
this encounter between the shoemaker and the host?

_Candida._ They say it is a matter of love and jealousy. They say Nina
is the cause.

_Geltrude._ I am sorry, for she is a good girl.

_Candida._ Oh, aunt, excuse me; I have heard things about her of a
nature that would make it better we should no longer let her come to the
house.

_Geltrude._ Why? What have they told you?

_Candida._ I will tell you after. Do as I do, aunt; don't receive her
any more, and you will do well.

_Geltrude._ Since she came more often to see you than to see me, I leave
you free to treat her as you please.

_Candida._ [_Aside._] The minx! she will not have the impudence to
appear before me.

_Susanna._ [_Returning._] Here are the caps, ladies; see, choose, and
content yourselves. [_All three occupied with the caps, and speaking
softly among themselves._]

SCENE IV.

_The above. The_ Count _and the_ Baron _come out of the inn._

_Count._ I am glad you have confided in me. Leave the rest to me, and do
not fear.

_Baron._ I know you are Signora Geltrude's friend.

_Count._ Oh, friend!--well, I will tell you. She is a lady who has some
talents; I like literature, I converse with her more willingly than with
any other. For the rest, she is a poor city dame. Her husband left her
this wretched house and some acres of ground, and, in order to be
respected in this village, she needs my protection.

_Baron._ Long live the Count who protects widows and fair ladies!

_Count._ What would you have? In this world one must be good for
something.

_Baron._ Then