Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1825-06-04


same engagement. Theresa, abandoned t.
her passion, scarcely comprehends his words
she consents to whatever he dictates. What
indeed, did they signify to herl-it is enough
that he loves her. She feels assured that she
shall see him again. At length they sepa
rate
Giulio, alone, surrendered to his own reAec
ton trembles to think OF his imprudence; bu
it is now too late to avoid the danger, he ha
not been able to escape his destiny. Of thai
love without bounds, he is already the victim
the sacrilege is already committed. Has he
not, in the very church where he pronounced
his vows of holiness, confessed his passion
Still, he has sworn to fly from it forever
Strange inconsistency of heart! that which
should constitute his punishment, forms hi:
consolation; but in this terrible conflict the
wretched Giulio has only choice of misery.
Theresa is fearless; Giulio loves her, he has
pronounced it, and she defes the stroke oil
fate. With what delight she recalls the rap.
id moments she has passed!-Such an hour
leaves behind it more of remembrance than q
whole loveless life. She does not even recol.
lect her promise to avoid him; she returns to
the church, sees Giulio, who seems likewise
to have forgotten his oath; hiswhole existence
is absorbed by his passion, and when he be-
holds its object, the universe disappears from
his sight; meanwhile they forbore to hold any
conversation. Giulio never failed in her alb
sence to be tortured by remorse, but one look
of Theresa threw his soul into disorder; he de-
termined on speaking to her, and on bidding
her an eternal adieu.
At the gate of the convent were a poor wo-
IL t,l
the aims of Theresa-the little Carlo fire.
quently followed her, carried her book, and
prayed by her side. Giulio, who dared not
approach Theresa, charged Carlo to tell her
that father Giulio would await her in the con-
fessional at seven O'Clock in the evening
What day Giulio became terrified at the
So. He feared he should want the resolution
to aff1ict her-he could not resolve upon it
he determined not to see her, but rather to
write, and Carlo was charged to deliver the
letter to Theresa as soon as she should enter
the church. Theresa on receiving his mes
sage was troubled; "What," said she, "does
he wish of me We were so content" Ne
vertheless she failed not to be at the church at
the hour indicated. Carlo gave her the let
ter, she opened it with extreme emotion, but
what were her feelings on reading the con-
tents!
sFly hence, imprudent woman, and come
no more to pollute the sanctity of this place !!
ment OF my iife 1 nave never loved you---I
will never see you more"
This sentence pierced the soul of Theresa;
his remorse she might have combatted, but ne
no longer loved her! She was attacked by a
violent fever, her life was endangered; the
name of Giulio was frequently near her lips
but she commanded herself even in her deli
rum, only murmuring i'll low voice from
time to time, 81 have never loved you
Has Giulio meanwhile recovered his tran
guilty. Has he silenced his remorsc No,
his life is miserable; having once declared to
Theresa that he loved no more, he surrender
ed himself wholly to this fatal passion. The
sacrifice appeared to him sufficient; that letter
had been indeed dreadful effort. Oh, The
resa! could you have known what it cost the
unhappy Giulio, your own grief would have
been lessened by the consciousness of his SUI
ferings, for the sorrow which is shared is al
ways greatly alleviated. Giulio was prey to
the most heart rending disquietude: three
months had passed away, and he knew no
thing of Theresa, time seemed only to aug
ment his love, and more than ever he avoided
the society of his fellow men. Under the
plea Of declining health, he persuaded father
Ambrosio to dispense him from all external
duties. Constantly was he shut up in his
cell, or wandering the livelong night among
the tombs, inebriated, as it were, by q senti-
ment which he had neither courage toresist
nor to obey, for weakness starts at results,
but uncertainty wears out life, affording nei-
ther memory nor hope.
Theresa's long malady was succeeded by a
state of alarming languor: she felt herself dy-
ing, and wished to perform the last duties en-.
Joined by religion. Her husband, who loved
her tenderly, saw plainly that some secret at,
fiction was hurrying her to the tomb-he res
pected her silence, and did not permit him.
selfa single question; he requested father Am,
brosio, who was greatly venerated, to visit
Theresa. He complied; but an unforeseen
circumstance prevented the fulflment of his
promise; he employed Giulio as his substitute,
and charged him to repair to the house OF
sicnor Vivaldi, (the husband of Theresa,) to
carry consolation to the heart of an unhappy
individual, and shed peace on her last mo-
ments. Alas, what consolation had Giulio to
bestow! Himself victim to the darkest des'
pondency, he had tears to afford, but not to
comfort lie endeavoured in vain to excuse
himself; Ambrosio insisted on his fulfilling
the duty he exacted from him; he obeyed
therefore, and presented himself at the a
bode of signor Vivaldi. lie was led into an
apartment, dimly lighted, where many persons
surrounded bed, on which lay female; on
his entrance all retired through respect to his
function, and Giulio remained alone with the
dying stranger. Agitated without knowing
the cause of his trouble, he stood irresolute'
"My father" said the dying woman, "den!
not your aid to sufferer who will soon cease
to exist" Scarcely were these words pro
nounced, than Giulio was on his knees nea'
the bed of death. "Theresa! Theresa
that name so intensely cherished, escaped
from his heart Who shall describe their mu
tual feelings! with each other, explanation
was unnecessary-they loved. Giuilo expires
sed to her all he had endured for her sake,
and accused himself of all she suffered. PAR
don! oh pardon" murmured he, "Gluho II
thine for ever" These fond words reanlma
ted Theresa; she could not speak, but she saw
him, she heard him, Suppressed ms hand; u
die thus seemed bliss to her. Giuho pressed