Family -- Fiction; Italy -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Religion -- Fiction
ridiculous in their eyes; and with men she could have but little
intercourse, for their society was dangerous. No man save Giovanni
Saracinesca had for years put himself in the light of a mere
acquaintance, always ready to talk to her upon general subjects,
studiously avoiding himself in all discussions, and delicately
flattering her vanity by his deference to her judgment. The other men had
generally spoken of love at the second meeting, and declared themselves
devoted to her for life at the end of a week: she had quietly repulsed
them, and they had dropped back into the position of indifferent
acquaintances, going in search of other game, after the manner of young
gentlemen of leisure. Giovanni alone had sternly maintained his air of
calmness, had never offended her simple pride of loyalty to Astrardente
by word or deed; so that, although she felt and dreaded her growing
interest in him, she had actually believed that he was nothing in her
life, until at last she had been undeceived and awakened to the knowledge
of his fierce passion, and being taken unawares, had nearly been carried
off her feet by the tempest his words had roused in her own breast. But
her strength had not utterly deserted her. Years of supreme devotion to
the right, of honest and unwavering loyalty, neither deceiving her
conscience on the one hand with the morbid food of a fictitious religious
exaltation, nor, upon the other, sinking to a cynical indifference to
inevitable misery; days of quiet and constant effort; long hours of
thoughtful meditation upon the one resolution of her life,--all this had
strengthened the natural force of her character, so that, when at last
the great trial had come, she had not yielded, but had conquered once and
for ever, in the very moment of sorest temptation. And with her there
would be no return of the danger. Having found strength to resist,
she knew that there would be no more weakness; her love for Giovanni was
deep and sincere, but it had become now the chief cause of suffering in
her life; it had utterly ceased to be the chief element of joy, as it had
been for a few short days. It was one thing more to be borne, and it
outweighed all other cares.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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