How I Existed I Cannot Tell - What
Rocks And Precipices I Braved, And How I Braved Them, I Know Not.
I
kept on and on - trying to outtravel the curse that clung to me.
Alas,
the shrieks of Bianca rung for ever in my ear. The horrible countenance
of my victim was for ever before my eyes. "The blood of Filippo cried
to me from the ground." Rocks, trees, and torrents all resounded with
my crime.
Then it was I felt how much more insupportable is the anguish of
remorse than every other mental pang. Oh! could I but have cast off
this crime that festered in my heart; could I but have regained the
innocence that reigned in my breast as I entered the garden at Sestri;
could I but have restored my victim to life, I felt as if I could look
on with transport even though Bianca were in his arms.
By degrees this frenzied fever of remorse settled into a permanent
malady of the mind. Into one of the most horrible that ever poor wretch
was cursed with. Wherever I went, the countenance of him I had slain
appeared to follow me. Wherever I turned my head I beheld it behind me,
hideous with the contortions of the dying moment. I have tried in every
way to escape from this horrible phantom; but in vain. I know not
whether it is an illusion of the mind, the consequence of my dismal
education at the convent, or whether a phantom really sent by heaven to
punish me; but there it ever is - at all times - in all places - nor has
time nor habit had any effect in familiarizing me with its terrors.
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