Rome -- History -- Republic, 265-30 B.C. -- Fiction
"Now, then," he said, "you know the measure of my sin—the extent of my
falsehood. All the ill of my tale is told, faithfully, frankly. What
remains, is unmixed with evil. Say, then; have I sinned, Julia, beyond the
hope of forgiveness? If to confess that, my eyes dazzled with beauty, my
blood inflamed with wine, my better self drowned in a tide of luxury
unlike aught I had ever known before, my senses wrought upon by every art,
and every fascination—if to confess, that my head was bewildered, my
reason lost its way for a moment—though my heart never, never failed in
its faith—and by the hopes, frail hopes, which I yet cling to of obtaining
you—the dread of losing you for ever! Julia, by these I swear, my heart
never did fail or falter! If, I say, to confess this be sufficient, and I
stand thus condemned and lost for ever, spare me the rest—I may as well be
silent!"
She paused a moment, ere she answered; and it was only with an effort,
choking down a convulsive sob, that she found words at all.
"Proceed," she said, "with your tale. I cannot answer you."
But, catching at her words, with all the elasticity of youthful hope, he
fancied that she _had_ answered him, and cried joyously and eagerly—
"Sweet Julia, then you can, you will forgive me."
"I have not said so, Paullus," she began. But he interrupted her, ere she
could frame her sentence—
"No! dearest; but your speech implied it, and—"
But here, in her turn, she interrupted him, saying—
"Then, Paullus, did my speech imply what I did not intend. For I have
_not_ forgiven—do not know if I can forgive, all that has passed. All
depends on that which is to come. You made me promise not to interrupt
your tale. I have not done so; and, in justice, I have the right to ask
that you should tell it out, before you claim my final answer. So I say,
once again, Proceed."
Unable, from the steadiness of her demeanour, so much even as to
conjecture what were her present feelings, yet much dispirited at finding
his mistake, the young man proceeded with his narrative. Gaining courage,
however, as he continued speaking, the principal difficulties of his story
being past, he warmed and spoke more feelingly, more eloquently, with
every word he uttered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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