For my part, I cannot express what were my emotions. By degrees I
overcame the extreme shyness that had formerly paralyzed me in her
presence. We were drawn together by sympathy of situation. We had each
lost our best friend in the world; we were each, in some measure thrown
upon the kindness of others. When I came to know her intellectually,
all my ideal picturings of her were confirmed. Her newness to the
world, her delightful susceptibility to every thing beautiful and
agreeable in nature, reminded me of my own emotions when first I
escaped from the convent. Her rectitude of thinking delighted my
judgment; the sweetness of her nature wrapped itself around my heart;
and then her young and tender and budding loveliness, sent a delicious
madness to my brain.
I gazed upon her with a kind of idolatry, as something more than
mortal; and I felt humiliated at the idea of my comparative
unworthiness. Yet she was mortal; and one of mortality's most
susceptible and loving compounds; for she loved me!
How first I discovered the transporting truth I cannot recollect; I
believe it stole upon me by degrees, as a wonder past hope or belief.
We were both at such a tender and loving age; in constant intercourse
with each other; mingling in the same elegant pursuits; for music,
poetry, and painting were our mutual delights, and we were almost
separated from society, among lovely and romantic scenery! Is it
strange that two young hearts thus brought together should readily
twine round each other?
Oh, gods! what a dream - a transient dream! of unalloyed delight then
passed over my soul! Then it was that the world around me was indeed a
paradise, for I had a woman - lovely, delicious woman, to share it with
me. How often have I rambled over the picturesque shores of Sestri, or
climbed its wild mountains, with the coast gemmed with villas, and the
blue sea far below me, and the slender Pharo of Genoa on its romantic
promontory in the distance; and as I sustained the faltering steps of
Bianca, have thought there could no unhappiness enter into so beautiful
a world. Why, oh, why is this budding season of life and love so
transient - why is this rosy cloud of love that sheds such a glow over
the morning of our days so prone to brew up into the whirlwind and the
storm!
I was the first to awaken from this blissful delirium of the
affections. I had gained Bianca's heart: what was I to do with it? I
had no wealth nor prospects to entitle me to her hand. Was I to take
advantage of her ignorance of the world, of her confiding affection,
and draw her down to my own poverty? Was this requiting the hospitality
of the Count? - was this requiting the love of Bianca?
Now first I began to feel that even successful love may have its
bitterness. A corroding care gathered about my heart. I moved about the
palace like a guilty being. I felt as if I had abused its
hospitality - as if I were a thief within its walls. I could no longer
look with unembarrassed mien in the countenance of the Count. I accused
myself of perfidy to him, and I thought he read it in my looks, and
began to distrust and despise me. His manner had always been
ostentatious and condescending, it now appeared cold and haughty.
Filippo, too, became reserved and distant; or at least I suspected him
to be so. Heavens! - was this mere coinage of my brain: was I to become
suspicious of all the world? - a poor surmising wretch; watching looks
and gestures; and torturing myself with misconstructions. Or if
true - was I to remain beneath a roof where I was merely tolerated, and
linger there on sufferance? "This is not to be endured!" exclaimed I;
"I will tear myself from this state of self-abasement; I will break
through this fascination and fly - Fly? - whither? - from the world? - for
where is the world when I leave Bianca behind me?"
My spirit was naturally proud, and swelled within me at the idea of
being looked upon with contumely. Many times I was on the point of
declaring my family and rank, and asserting my equality, in the
presence of Bianca, when I thought her relatives assumed an air of
superiority. But the feeling was transient. I considered myself
discarded and contemned by my family; and had solemnly vowed never to
own relationship to them, until they themselves should claim it.
The struggle of my mind preyed upon my happiness and my health. It
seemed as if the uncertainty of being loved would be less intolerable
than thus to be assured of it, and yet not dare to enjoy the
conviction. I was no longer the enraptured admirer of Bianca; I no
longer hung in ecstasy on the tones of her voice, nor drank in with
insatiate gaze the beauty of her countenance. Her very smiles ceased to
delight me, for I felt culpable in having won them.
She could not but be sensible of the change in me, and inquired the
cause with her usual frankness and simplicity. I could not evade the
inquiry, for my heart was full to aching. I told her all the conflict
of my soul; my devouring passion, my bitter self-upbraiding. "Yes!"
said I, "I am unworthy of you. I am an offcast from my family - a
wanderer - a nameless, homeless wanderer, with nothing but poverty for
my portion, and yet I have dared to love you - have dared to aspire to
your love!"
My agitation moved her to tears; but she saw nothing in my situation so
hopeless as I had depicted it.
