"What else can it be to me, but an atonement of the past, but a prayer, a prayer for forgiveness? I shall never learn if it be fulfilled, but in my best hours I shall comfort myself with it, I shall hope and believe in it, as we believe in one only happiness! "And I dare believe and hope, because the crime that I committed was committed only through boundless love for you, through passion that gives up and sacrifices everything for the possession of the beloved one, even its duty, its honour--at least that which before law and the world passes for such. I had hoped to be able to preserve my secret, and at the same time untroubled happiness for you, even although mine was ever disturbed by pangs of conscience; it has been ordained differently, the veil has suddenly fallen. I stand as a criminal before your eyes. If you, too, measure me with the measure of others, then there is no absolution for me, but you, whom I loved most deeply, will also be more capable than all others of forgiveness. "The whole history of my sorrow is connected with a man who has now met with so terrible an end, he was fatal to my life. I may regret that a low mind made him an unsettled, unhappy wanderer upon earth, but I cannot weep for him, because tears are too precious to be wasted upon what is ignoble. Others may, perhaps, think the same of me, but every great passion has an atoning power. The story of my life is short, but eventful. "My parents possessed a small estate near Bergamo; they exchanged it for another in the Italian Tyrol, but they were unfortunate, their affairs went wrong. Young as I was, I had to think of earning something for myself, and as I was esteemed tolerably good looking, and my voice melodious and strong, it was determined that I should devote myself to the stage. Influential friends provided for my education, so that I might enter the chorus at the _Pergola_, in Florence. "I was eighteen years old, I did not know life. In my dreams I might sketch a brilliant future for myself: the present was poor enough, it did not satisfy the ambition of artistic struggles, it barely yielded daily bread. Gradually, however, I began to receive subordinate parts, in which, if not by my singing, yet by my voice, my whole manner, I could rouse people's attention.