We had
dwelt together on the works of the famous masters. I had related to her
their histories; the high reputation, the influence, the magnificence
to which they had attained;--the companions of princes, the favorites
of kings, the pride and boast of nations. All this she applied to me.
Her love saw nothing in their greatest productions that I was not able
to achieve; and when I saw the lovely creature glow with fervor, and
her whole countenance radiant with the visions of my glory, which
seemed breaking upon her, I was snatched up for the moment into the
heaven of her own imagination.
I am dwelling too long upon this part of my story; yet I cannot help
Lingering over a period of my life, on which, with all its cares and
conflicts, I look back with fondness; for as yet my soul was unstained
by a crime. I do not know what might have been the result of this
struggle between pride, delicacy, and passion, had I not read in a
Neapolitan gazette an account of the sudden death of my brother. It was
accompanied by an earnest inquiry for intelligence concerning me, and a
prayer, should this notice meet my eye, that I would hasten to Naples,
to comfort an infirm and afflicted father.
I was naturally of an affectionate disposition; but my brother had
never been as a brother to me; I had long considered myself as
disconnected from him, and his death caused me but little emotion. The
thoughts of my father, infirm and suffering, touched me, however, to
the quick; and when I thought of him, that lofty, magnificent being,
now bowed down and desolate, and suing to me for comfort, all my
resentment for past neglect was subdued, and a glow of filial affection
was awakened within me.
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