I Had Hardly Made
The Request But He Seated Himself By My Side, And Gave Me His Story In,
As Nearly As I Can Recollect, The Following Words.
THE STORY OF THE YOUNG ROBBER.
I was born at the little town of Frosinone, which lies at the skirts of
the Abruzzi. My father had made a little property in trade, and gave me
some education, as he intended me for the church, but I had kept gay
company too much to relish the cowl, so I grew up a loiterer about the
place. I was a heedless fellow, a little quarrelsome on occasions, but
good-humored in the main, so I made my way very well for a time, until
I fell in love. There lived in our town a surveyor, or land bailiff, of
the prince's who had a young daughter, a beautiful girl of sixteen. She
was looked upon as something better than the common run of our
townsfolk, and kept almost entirely at home. I saw her occasionally,
and became madly in love with her, she looked so fresh and tender, and
so different to the sunburnt females to whom I had been accustomed.
As my father kept me in money, I always dressed well, and took all
Opportunities of showing myself to advantage in the eyes of the little
beauty. I used to see her at church; and as I could play a little upon
the guitar, I gave her a tune sometimes under her window of an evening;
and I tried to have interviews with her in her father's vineyard, not
far from the town, where she sometimes walked.
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