A Sicilian Romance

Julia remained for the rest of the day shut up in her closet, where

the tender efforts of Madame and Emilia were exerted to soften her

distress. Towards the close of evening Ferdinand entered. Hippolitus,

shocked at her absence, had requested him to visit her, to alleviate

her affliction, and, if possible, to discover its cause. Ferdinand,

who tenderly loved his sister, was alarmed by the words of Hippolitus,

and immediately sought her. Her eyes were swelled with weeping, and

her countenance was but too expressive of the state of her mind.

Ferdinand's distress, when told of his father's conduct, was scarcely

less than her own. He had pleased himself with the hope of uniting the

sister of his heart with the friend whom he loved. An act of cruel

authority now dissolved the fairy dream of happiness which his fancy

had formed, and destroyed the peace of those most dear to him. He sat

for a long time silent and dejected; at length, starting from his

melancholy reverie, he bad Julia good-night, and returned to

Hippolitus, who was waiting for him with anxious impatience in the

north hall. Ferdinand dreaded the effect of that despair, which the intelligence

he had to communicate would produce in the mind of Hippolitus. He

revolved some means of softening the dreadful truth; but Hippolitus,

quick to apprehend the evil which love taught him to fear, seized at

once upon the reality. 'Tell me all,' said he, in a tone of assumed

firmness. 'I am prepared for the worst.' Ferdinand related the decree

of the marquis, and Hippolitus soon sunk into an excess of grief which

defied, as much as it required, the powers of alleviation.

Julia, at length, retired to her chamber, but the sorrow which

occupied her mind withheld the blessings of sleep. Distracted and

restless she arose, and gently opened the window of her apartment. The

night was still, and not a breath disturbed the surface of the waters.

The moon shed a mild radiance over the waves, which in gentle

undulations flowed upon the sands. The scene insensibly tranquilized

her spirits. A tender and pleasing melancholy diffused itself over her

mind; and as she mused, she heard the dashing of distant oars.

Presently she perceived upon the light surface of the sea a small

boat. The sound of the oars ceased, and a solemn strain of harmony

(such as fancy wafts from the abodes of the blessed) stole upon the

silence of night. A chorus of voices now swelled upon the air, and

died away at a distance. In the strain Julia recollected the midnight

hymn to the virgin, and holy enthusiasm filled her heart. The chorus

was repeated, accompanied by a solemn striking of oars. A sigh of

exstacy stole from her bosom. Silence returned. The divine melody she

had heard calmed the tumult of her mind, and she sunk in sweet repose.