A Sicilian Romance

In her present situation she found much novelty to amuse, and much

serious matter to interest her mind. Entendered by distress, she

easily yielded to the pensive manners of her companions and to the

serene uniformity of a monastic life. She loved to wander through the

lonely cloisters, and high-arched aisles, whose long perspectives

retired in simple grandeur, diffusing a holy calm around. She found

much pleasure in the conversation of the nuns, many of whom were

uncommonly amiable, and the dignified sweetness of whose manners

formed a charm irresistibly attractive. The soft melancholy impressed

upon their countenances, pourtrayed the situation of their minds, and

excited in Julia a very interesting mixture of pity and esteem. The

affectionate appellation of sister, and all that endearing tenderness

which they so well know how to display, and of which they so well

understand the effect, they bestowed on Julia, in the hope of winning

her to become one of their order.

Soothed by the presence of madame, the assiduity of the nuns, and by

the stillness and sanctity of the place, her mind gradually recovered

a degree of complacency to which it had long been a stranger. But

notwithstanding all her efforts, the idea of Hippolitus would at

intervals return upon her memory with a force that at once subdued her

fortitude, and sunk her in a temporary despair.

Among the holy sisters, Julia distinguished one, the singular fervor

of whose devotion, and the pensive air of whose countenance, softened

by the languor of illness, attracted her curiosity, and excited a

strong degree of pity. The nun, by a sort of sympathy, seemed

particularly inclined towards Julia, which she discovered by

innumerable acts of kindness, such as the heart can quickly understand

and acknowledge, although description can never reach them. In

conversation with her, Julia endeavoured, as far as delicacy would

permit, to prompt an explanation of that more than common dejection

which shaded those features, where beauty, touched by resignation and

sublimed by religion, shone forth with mild and lambent lustre. T

he Duke de Luovo, after having been detained for some weeks by the

fever which his wounds had produced, and his irritated passions had

much prolonged, arrived at the castle of Mazzini.

When the marquis saw him return, and recollected the futility of those

exertions, by which he had boastingly promised to recover Julia, the

violence of his nature spurned the disguise of art, and burst forth in

contemptuous impeachment of the valour and discernment of the duke,

who soon retorted with equal fury. The consequence might have been

fatal, had not the ambition of the marquis subdued the sudden

irritation of his inferior passions, and induced him to soften the

severity of his accusations, by subsequent concessions. The duke,

whose passion for Julia was heightened by the difficulty which opposed

it, admitted such concessions as in other circumstances he would have

rejected; and thus each, conquered by the predominant passion of the

moment, submitted to be the slave of his adversary.