 bestowed so freely
by the second. Matilda gluts me with enjoyment even to loathing, forces me to
her arms, apes the harlot, and glories in her prostitution. Disgusting! Did she
know the inexpressible charm of modesty, how irresistibly it enthrals the heart
of man, how firmly it chains him to the throne of beauty, she never would have
thrown it off. What would be too dear a price for this lovely girl's affections?
What would I refuse to sacrifice, could I be released from my vows, and
permitted to declare my love in the sight of earth and heaven? While I strove to
inspire her with tenderness, with friendship and esteem, how tranquil and
undisturbed would the hours roll away! Gracious God! to see her blue downcast
eyes beam upon mine with timid fondness! to sit for days, for years, listening
to that gentle voice! to acquire the right of obliging her, and hear the artless
expressions of her gratitude! to watch the emotions of her spotless heart! to
encourage each dawning virtue! to share in her joy when happy, to kiss away her
tears when distressed, and to see her fly to my arms for comfort and support!
Yes; if there is perfect bliss on earth, 'tis his lot alone who becomes that
angel's husband.«
    While his fancy coined these ideas, he paced his cell with a disordered air.
His eyes were fixed upon vacancy: his head reclined upon his shoulder: a tear
rolled down his cheek, while he reflected that the vision of happiness for him
could never be realized.
    »She is lost to me;« he continued, »by marriage she cannot be mine: and to
seduce such innocence, to use the confidence reposed in me to work her ruin -
Oh! it would be a crime, blacker than yet the world ever witnessed! Fear not,
lovely girl! your virtue runs no risque from me. Not for Indies would I make
that gentle bosom know the tortures of remorse.«
    Again he paced his chamber hastily. Then stopping, his eye fell upon the
picture of his once-admired Madona. He tore it with indignation from the wall:
he threw it on the ground, and spurned it from him with his foot.
    »The prostitute!«
    Unfortunate Matilda! her paramour forgot, that for his sake alone she had
forfeited her claim to virtue; and his only reason for despising her was, that
she had loved him much too well.
    He threw himself into a chair, which stood near the table. He saw the card
with Elvira'
