No More Learning

The Francesca da Rimini' had been produced. It had caught
the ear of the people. Fame seemed to be coming. But he was still
in the dew of youth. His name was new in the world of letters.
Suddenly, in this first blossoming of youthful promise, he was with-
drawn from view, as entirely as if he were in his grave. He was
virtually in the chambers of the dead-even in hell itself.
Had his story ended here, the world would have heard no more
of Silvio Pellico. But he lived to come forth from his long entomb-
ment, to mingle again in the activities of this living world, and
to recount the tremendous and refined tortures undergone by the
wretched human beings who moved and breathed and suffered in
these infernal abodes, still this side the river of death. No sooner
was that story uttered upon the free air of heaven, than it was evi-
dent to all the world that the star of Pellico had not set. It had
emerged from the black cloud which ten years before had seemed to
quench it, now like a comet blazing in the face of the universe.
The book 'Le Mie Prigioni (My Imprisonment) was first published
in Turin in 1832. It was written in a style of unpretending sim-
plicity, with an almost superhuman gentleness and sincerity (consider-
ing the subjects of which it treats), and with an angelic pathos all
his own, without one blast of malediction, one growling thunder of
the coming storm; but in the event it made the Austrian powers
turn pale, and shook that old iron throne. It was quickly translated
into every language of modern Europe, carried the civilized world off
its feet with admiration and astonishment, and made all Christendom
XIX-705


## p. 11266 (#486) ##########################################

11266
SILVIO PELLICO
blush with sympathy and anger; and as was remarked by an eminent
statesman of the time, "it struck a heavier blow upon. the tyranny of
Austria, and for Italian liberty, than would have been the loss of an
army in battle. "
With a constitution broken by suffering, he lingered on in a cer-
tain literary activity till 1854; but left no other results comparable to
the productions of his youth.
F. Bingham
FROM LE MIE PRIGIONI
HIS PURPOSE IN WRITING THE Book
IT
N WRITING these memories, my motive has been that of con-
tributing to the comfort of the unhappy, by making known.
the evils I have borne and the consolations I have found
attainable under the greatest misfortunes; that of bearing wit-
ness that in the midst of my long sufferings I have not found
human nature so degraded, so unworthy of indulgence, so defi-
cient in excellent characters, as it is commonly represented; that
of inviting noble hearts to love much, to hate no human being,
to feel irreconcilable hatred only towards mean deceit, pusilla-
nimity, perfidy, and all moral degradation; that of repeating a
truth well known, but often forgotten,- that both religion and
philosophy require an energetic will and calm judgment; and
that without the union of these qualities there can be neither
justice, nor dignity, nor strength of principle.
ARREST AND FIRST DAY IN PRISON
ON FRIDAY the 13th of October, 1820, I was arrested at Milan,
and carried to the prison of Santa Margherita. It was three
o'clock in the afternoon. I was immediately subjected to a long
examination, which was continued through several days. But of
this I shall say nothing. Like a lover ill-treated of his mistress,
and manfully resolved to keep himself aloof from her, I shall
leave politics where they are, and speak of other things.
At nine in the evening of that miserable Friday, the no-
tary consigned me to the jailer, who conducted me to the room


## p. 11267 (#487) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11267
destined for me. He civilly requested me to give up to him (to
be restored in due time) my watch, my money, and everything
else that I had in my pockets, and respectfully wished me a
good-night.
"Stop, dear sir," said I to him, "I have not dined to-day: let
something be brought me. "
"Immediately; the eating-house is near, and you will find the
wine good, sir. "
"I do not drink wine. "
At this answer Signor Angiolino looked alarmed, and hoped
I was jesting. Jailers who sell wine have a horror of an abste-
mious prisoner.
"Indeed I do not drink it. "
"I am sorry for you: you will suffer doubly from solitude. "
He went out, and in less than half an hour I had my
dinner. I ate a few mouthfuls, swallowed a glass of water, and
was left alone.
·
My room was on the lower floor, and looked out upon the
court. There were cells on each side, above, and opposite. I
leaned on the window, and listened for some time to the passing
and repassing of the jailers, and to the wild singing of some of
the prisoners.
I reflected:
"A century ago this was a monastery; the holy and penitent
virgins who dwelt here never imagined that at this day their
cells would resound no more with the sighs of women and with
pious hymns, but with blasphemies and indecent songs, and
would contain men of all kinds,- the greater part destined to
hard labor, or to the gallows.
"Yesterday I was one of the happiest of men: to-day I no
longer possess any of the joys which gladdened my life; liberty,
intercourse with my friends, hope itself is gone. I shall go hence
only to be thrown into some horrible den, or to be consigned to
the executioner. Well, the day after my death, it will be the
same as if I had expired in a palace and had been borne to the
tomb with the greatest honors. "
――――――――――
But my thoughts turned to my father, my mother, my two
brothers, my two sisters, and another family which I loved as
if it were my own; and my philosophical reasoning was of no
avail,—I was overcome, and wept like a child.


## p. 11268 (#488) ##########################################

11268
SILVIO PELLICO
THE ROMANCE WITH MADDALENA
FROM the gallery that was under my window there was a
passage through an arch to another court, where were the prisons
and hospitals for females. A single wall, and that very thin,
divided me from one of the rooms of the women. Often these
poor creatures almost stunned me with their songs, sometimes
with their quarrels.
Late in the evening, when all was still, I heard them talk.
Some of those female voices were sweet, and those why
should I not say it? were dear to me. One sweeter than the
others was heard less often, and never uttered vulgar thoughts.
She sung little, and for the most part only these two pathetic
lines:-
"Chi rende alla meschina
La sua felicità ? "
- -
Sometimes she sang the Litanies; and her companions accom-
panied her, but I could always distinguish the voice of Maddalena
amidst all the power of louder and rougher voices. Her compan-
ions called her Maddalena, and related their troubles to her, and
she pitied them and sighed and said, "Take courage, my dear:
the Lord never forsakes any one. "
What could prevent me from imagining her beautiful, and
more unfortunate than culpable; born for virtue, and capable of
returning to it if she had swerved from it? Who could blame
me if I were affected by the sound of her voice? if I listened
to her with respectful interest, if I prayed for her with peculiar
fervor? Who will restore to the wretched (female) her happi-
ness?
Innocence is to be honored; but how much is repentance to
be honored also! Did the best of men, the God-man, disdain
to cast his compassionate looks upon sinful women, to regard
their confusion, and to associate them with the souls whom he
most honored? Why then should we so much despise a woman
who has fallen into ignominy? I was a hundred times tempted
to raise my voice and make a declaration of fraternal love to
Maddalena. Once I began the first syllable of her name:
"Mad-! " My heart beat as if I were a boy of fifteen in love.
I could go no further. I began again: "Mad-! Mad-! " but
it was useless. I felt myself ridiculous, and exclaimed angrily,


## p. 11269 (#489) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11269
"Matto! * and not Mad! " Thus ended my romance with this
poor woman.
Mayst thou, O unknown sinner, not have been condemned
to a heavy punishment! Or, to whatever punishment thou hast
been condemned, mayst thou profit by it, to recover thy worth
and live and die dear to the Lord! Mayst thou be compassion-
ated and respected by all who know thee, as thou hast been by
me, who know thee not! Mayst thou inspire in every one who
sees thee patience, gentleness, the desire of virtue and trust in
God, as thou hast in him who loves thee without having seen
thee! My fancy may err when it paints thee beautiful in body,
but I cannot doubt the beauty of thy soul. Thy companions
spoke with coarseness, thou with modesty and courtesy; they
blasphemed and thou didst bless God; they quarreled and thou
wert the composer of their strife. If any one has taken thee by
the hand to withdraw thee from the career of dishonor; if he
has conferred benefits on thee with delicacy; if he has dried thy
tears, may all blessings be showered upon him, upon his children
and his children's children!
Two VISITS FROM HIS FATHER
THE notary who had examined me came one morning and
announced to me with an air of mystery a visit which would
give me pleasure; and when he thought he had sufficiently pre-
pared me for it, he said, "In short, it is your father: follow me,
if you please. "
I followed him below into the public offices, agitated with
pleasure and tenderness, forcing myself to appear with a serene
aspect, which might tranquillize my poor father. When he heard
of my arrest, he hoped it was upon some unfounded suspicion,
and that I should soon be released. But finding that my deten-
tion continued, he had come to solicit my liberation of the Aus-
trian government. Sad illusion of paternal love! He could not
believe that I had been so rash as to expose myself to the rigor
of the laws; and the studied cheerfulness with which I spoke to
him persuaded him that I had no misfortune to apprehend.
In the circumstances in which Italy then was, I felt certain
that Austria would give some extraordinary examples of rigor,
* Insane.


## p. 11270 (#490) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11270
and that I should be condemned to death, or to many years
of imprisonment. To hide this belief from a father! to flatter
him with the hope of my speedy liberation! to restrain my fears
when I embraced him, when I spoke to him of my mother, of
my brothers and my sisters, whom I thought never to behold
again upon earth! to beg him with an unfaltering voice to come
and see me again, if he were able! Nothing ever cost me so
much effort.
He went away greatly comforted, and I returned to my cell
with a tortured heart. I broke out into sobs, yet could not shed
a tear. A burning fever attacked me, accompanied by a violent
headache. I swallowed not even a spoonful of soup the whole
day. "Would this were a mortal illness," I said: "that would
shorten my sufferings. "
Two days afterward my father returned. I had slept well
during the night, and was free from fever.
I resumed my easy
and cheerful deportment, and no one suspected what my heart
had suffered and was yet to suffer. "I trust," said my father,
"that in a few days you will be sent to Turin. We have already
prepared your room, and shall expect you with great anxiety.
My official duties oblige me to return. Endeavor, I pray you, to
join me soon. ”
My heart was torn by his tender and melancholy expressions
of affection. It seemed to me that filial piety required dissimu-
lation, yet I dissembled with a kind of remorse. Would it not
have been more worthy of my father and of myself if I had said
to him: Probably we shall see each other no more in this world!
Let us part like men, without murmuring, without tears; and let
me hear a father's blessing pronounced on my head! "
This language would have been a thousand times more agree-
able to me than disguise. But I looked upon the eyes of that
venerable old man, his features and his gray hairs, and he did
not appear to me to have the strength to hear me speak thus.
And what if, through my unwillingness to deceive him, I had
seen him abandon himself to despair, perhaps fall into a swoon,
perhaps (horrible idea! ) be struck with death in my arms!
could neither tell him the truth nor suffer him to perceive it.
We parted without tears. I returned to my cell tortured as
before, or more fiercely still.


## p. 11271 (#491) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11271
HIS SUFFERINGS FROM HEAT AND GNATS IN THE PIOMBI
THE winter had been mild; and after some windy weather in
March, the hot season came on. The heat of the air in the den
that I inhabited is indescribable. It faced directly south under
a leaden roof, and with the window opening on the roof of St.
Mark's, also of lead, the reflection from which was tremendous.
I was suffocated. In addition to this suffering, there was such
a multitude of gnats that however I labored to destroy them, I
was covered with them; the bed, the table, the chair, the floor,
the walls, the ceiling,- everything was covered with them; and
the surrounding air contained an infinite number, always going
and coming through the window, and making an infernal buzz-
ing. The stings of these creatures are painful; and being
pierced by them from morning till night, and from night till
morning, with the everlasting vexation of striving to diminish
their number, I suffered frightfully both in body and mind: and
when I was unable to obtain a change of my prison, the thought
of suicide entered my mind, and at times I feared I should be-
come mad.
THE ROMANCE WITH ZANZE
I HAD begged that la Siora Zanze would make my coffee.
This was the daughter of the jailer, who, if she could do it with-
out the knowledge of her mother, made it very strong. More
than once it happened that the coffee was not made by the com-
passionate Zanze, and it was wretched stuff. One day when I
reproved her harshly, as if she had deceived me, the poor girl
wept and said to me:-
"Signore, I have never deceived anybody; and yet every one
calls me a deceiver. "
"Every one? Oh! then I am not the only one who is angry
about this wretched coffee? "
"I do not mean that, signore. Ah, if you only knew! - if I
could pour out my wretched heart into yours! "
"But do not weep so! I ask your pardon. I believe it is
not your fault that I had such bad coffee. "
"I do not weep for that, signore. "
"The cause is something different, then? "
"Yes, truly. "


## p. 11272 (#492) ##########################################

11272
SILVIO PELLICO
"Who calls you a deceiver? »
"My lover. "
Her face was covered with blushes; and in her ingenuous
confidence she related to me a serio-comic idyl which affected
From that day I became the confidant of the girl, and she
was disposed to talk with me a great deal.
me.
"Signore, you are so good," she said to me, "that I look up
to you as a daughter to her father. "
"You pay me a poor compliment," I replied: "I am hardly
thirty-two. "
"Well, then, signore, I will say as a brother. " She seized my
hand, and held it affectionately; and all this was in perfect inno-
cence.
I said to myself afterwards: "It is fortunate she is not a
beauty; otherwise this innocent familiarity might disconcert
me. »
At other times I said: "It is fortunate she is so young! There
can be no danger of my being in love with such a child. ”
At other times I was a little uneasy, from its seeming to me
that I had deceived myself in considering her plain; and I was
obliged to acknowledge that the outlines of her figure were good,
and her features not irregular.
"If she were not so pale," I said, "and had not those few
freckles on her face, she might pass for handsome. "
It is impossible not to find some charm in the presence, looks,
and conversation of a lively and affectionate girl. I had done
nothing to win her kindness; and yet I was dear to her, as
a father or a brother, as I might prefer. Why? Because she
had read the 'Francesca da Rimini,' and the 'Eufemio,' and my
verses made her weep so much! and then I was a prisoner with-
out having, as she said, either robbed or murdered! Now was it
possible that I, who had been attached to the Maddalena without
seeing her, should be indifferent to the sisterly attentions, to the
agreeable flattery, to the excellent coffee of the lively young
Venetian police-girl?
I was not in love with her. But if the sentiment she awoke
in me was not what is called love, I confess that it was some-
thing like it. I desired that she should be happy, that she should
succeed in marrying him who pleased her. I had no jealousy
towards the object of her affection. But when I heard the door
open, my heart beat with the hope that it was Zanze: if it were


## p. 11273 (#493) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11273
not, I was dissatisfied; if it were, my heart beat yet more strongly,
and I was delighted.
She had a simplicity and lovableness which was seducing.
"I am
so much in love with another man," she said to me,
"yet I love so to stay with you! When I do not see my lover,
I am uneasy everywhere but here; and it seems to me that it is
because I esteem you so very much. " Poor girl! she had the
blessed fault of continually taking my hand and pressing it, and
did not perceive that this pleased and disturbed me at the same
time. Now was I to blame if I wished for her visits with ten-
der solicitude, if I appreciated their sweetness, if I was pleased
to be pitied by her, and requited sympathy with sympathy, since
our thoughts relating to each other were as pure as the purest
thoughts of infancy? since even her taking my hand, and her
most affectionate looks, while they disturbed me, filled me with
a saving reverence?
One evening, while she poured into my heart a great affliction
that she had experienced, the unhappy girl threw her arms upon
my neck, and covered my face with her tears. In this embrace
there was not the shadow of a profane thought. A daughter
could not embrace her father with more respect. Another time,
when she abandoned herself to a similar burst of filial confi-
dence, I quickly unbound myself from her dear arms, and without
pressing her upon my bosom, without kissing her, said stammer-
ing: "Pray do not ever embrace me, Zanze: it is not right. '
She looked into my face, looked down, blushed, and it was the
first time that she read in my soul the possibility of any weak-
ness in relation to her. She did not cease to be familiar with me,
but from that time her familiarity became more respectful, more
in accordance with my wishes; and I was grateful to her for it.
Zanze fell sick. During the first days of her illness she came
to see me, and complained of great pain in her head. She wept,
but did not and would not explain the cause of her tears. She
only stammered of her lover, "He is a bad man; but may God
forgive him! "
"I shall return to-morrow morning," she said one evening.
But my coffee was brought by a prison attendant. He said some
ambiguous things about this girl's love affair, which made my
hair stand on end. A month later she was carried into the
country, and I saw her no more, and my prison became again
like a tomb.


## p. 11274 (#494) ##########################################

11274
SILVIO PELLICO
HIS SUFFERINGS FROM COLD
THE summer being ended, during the last half of September
the heat diminished. October came, and I then rejoiced in hav-
ing a room which would be comfortable in winter. But one
morning the jailer told me that he had orders to change my cell.
"And where am I to go? "
"A few steps from this into a cooler room. »
"And why did you not think of it when I was dying with
heat; when the air was all gnats and the bed all bugs? "
"The order did not come before. "
"Well, patience! let us go. "
Although I had suffered so much in that room, it pained
me to leave it; not only because it would have been best in the
cold season, but for many other reasons.
Had not this sad prison
been cheered by the compassion of Zanze? How often she rested
on that window! There she used to sit; in that place she told
me one story, in this another; there she bent over my table, and
her tears dropped upon it.
It [the new room] was in the Piombi, but on the north and
west; an abode of perpetual cold, and of horrible ice in the
severe months.
THE RECEPTION OF THE FINAL SENTENCE
ON THE 21st of February, 1822, the jailer came for me about
ten o'clock in the forenoon. He conducted me to the hall of
the commission, and withdrew. The president, the inquisitor, and
the two assistant judges were seated. They rose. The president,
with an expression of generous commiseration, told me that my
sentence had arrived, and that the judgment had been terrible,
but that the Emperor had mitigated its severity. The inquisi-
tor read the sentence, "Condemned to death. " He then read the
imperial rescript: "The punishment is commuted to fifteen years'
severe imprisonment in the fortress of Spielberg. "
I answered, The will of God be done! " It was truly my
intention to receive this terrible blow as a Christian, and neither
to show nor to indulge resentment against any one.
"We regret," said the inquisitor, "that to-morrow the sentence
must be announced to you in public; but the formality cannot be
dispensed with. "


## p. 11275 (#495) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11275
"Be it so, then," I said. God had put me to a severe proof.
My duty was to sustain it with fortitude. I could not! I would
not! I had rather hate than forgive. I passed an infernal night.
At nine in the forenoon Maroncelli and I were put into a
gondola. We landed at the palace of the Doge and ascended to
the prisons. We were put into a cell and waited long. It was
not till noon that the inquisitor appeared and announced to us
that it was time to go. The physician was present and proposed
to us to drink a glass of mint-water. We did so, and were
grateful for his kindness. The chief of the guard then put
handcuffs on us. We descended, and between two files of Ger-
man soldiers, passed through the gateway into the Piazzetta, in the
centre of which was the scaffold we were to ascend.
Having mounted the scaffold, we looked around and saw the
immense crowd of people filled with consternation. In several
places at a distance other soldiers were drawn up, and we were
told that cannon with lighted matches were stationed on every
side. The German captain called out to us to turn toward the
palace and look up. We obeyed, and saw upon the open gallery
an officer of the court with a paper in his hand. It was the
sentence. He read it in a loud voice. Profound silence reigned
until he came to the words, "Condemned to death. " Then a
general murmur of compassion arose. Silence again succeeded,
that the reading might be finished. New murmurs arose at
the words "Condemned to severe imprisonment; Maroncelli for
twenty years, and Pellico for fifteen. "
The captain then made a sign for us to descend.
We did so,
again entering the court, reascending the great stairs, and return-
ing to the room from which we had been taken. Our handcuffs
were remov
oved, and we were taken back to San Michele.
―――――
HIS JOURNEY TO THE FINAL PRISON OF THe Spielberg
AFTER the delay of a month and four days, we set out for
the Spielberg in the night between the 25th and 26th of March.
A police servant chained us transversely, the right hand to the
left foot, to render our escape impossible. Six or seven guards,
armed with muskets and sabres, part within the carriage and
part on the box with the driver, completed the convoy of the
commissary.
In passing through the Illyrian and German provinces, the
exclamation was universal, "Poor gentlemen! " In a village of


## p. 11276 (#496) ##########################################

11276
SILVIO PELLICO
Styria, a young girl followed us in the midst of a crowd, and
when our carriage stopped for a few minutes, saluted us with
both hands, then went away with a handkerchief at her eyes,
leaning on the arm of a melancholy-looking young man.
On the 10th of April we arrived at the place of our destina-
tion. About three hundred convicts, for the most part robbers
and assassins, are here confined. Those condemned to severe im-
prisonment (carcere duro) are obliged to labor, to wear chains on
their feet, to sleep on bare planks, and to eat the poorest food
imaginable. Those condemned to very severe imprisonment (car-
cere durissimo) are chained more horribly, with a band of iron
around the waist, and the chain fastened in the wall in such a
way that they can only walk by the side of the planks which
serve them for a bed; their food is the same, although the law
says bread and water. We, prisoners of State, were condemned
to severe imprisonment.
THE FIRST DAY IN THE PRISON OF SPIELBERG
WE WERE Consigned to the superintendent of the prison. Our
names were registered among those of the robbers.
We were
then conducted to a subterranean corridor. A dark room was
opened for each of us, and each was shut up there.
When I found myself alone in this horrible den, and heard
the bolts fastened, and distinguished, by the dim light which fell
from the small high window, the bare planks given me for a
bed, and an enormous chain in the wall, I seated myself on that
bed shuddering; and took up the chain and measured its length,
thinking it was intended for me.
Half an hour after, I heard the keys grate; the door was
opened, and the head jailer brought me a pitcher of water.
"This is to drink," he said, "and to-morrow morning I will
bring the bread, " He turned back asking me how long I had
coughed so badly; and hurled a great curse against the physician
for not coming the same evening to visit me.
"You have a galloping fever," he added: "I can perceive
that you need at least a sack of straw; but till the physician has
ordered it we cannot give it to you. " He went away and closed
the door, and I laid myself on the hard plank, burning with
fever and with strong pain in the breast.
In the evening the superintendent came, accompanied by
the jailer, a corporal, and two soldiers, to make an examination.


## p. 11277 (#497) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11277
Three daily examinations were prescribed, one in the morning,
one in the evening, and one at midnight. The prisoner is
stripped naked, every corner of the cell and every article of
clothing are strictly examined.
The first time I saw this troop, being then ignorant of those
vexatious usages, and delirious from the fever, I fancied they
had started to kill me, and grasped the long chain that was near
me to break the head of the first who should approach me.
"What are you doing? " said the superintendent: "we are not
come to do you any harm. This is a visit of formality to all
the cells, to assure ourselves that there is no irregularity there. "
The jailer stretched out his hand; I let go the chain and took
his hand between mine.
"How it burns! " said he to the superintendent.
HIS FIRST EXPERIENCE OF THE DIET OF THE SPIELBERG PRISON
ON THURSDAY morning, two hours after the visitation had
been made. the jailer brought me a piece of brown bread, saying:
"This is your portion for two days. "
At eleven my dinner was brought by a convict, accompanied
by Schiller the jailer. It consisted of two iron pots, one contain-
ing very bad broth, the other beans seasoned with such a sauce
that the mere smell brought disgust. I attempted to swallow
some spoonfuls of broth, but it was not possible for me. Schiller
kept saying, over and over again, "Have courage: get yourself
accustomed to this food; otherwise it will happen to you as it
has to others, to eat nothing but a little bread, and then die of
weakness. "
HE ASSUMES THE PRISON UNIFORM
FIVE days after this, my prison dress was brought me. It
consisted of a pair of pantaloons of coarse cloth, the right side
gray, the left of capuchin color [chocolate]; a waistcoat of the two
colors disposed in the same way; and a roundabout coat of the
same colors, but arranged in the opposite way. The stockings
were of coarse wool, the shirt of tow-cloth full of shives, a real
hair-cloth; and round the neck was a piece of cloth like the shirt.
The brogans were of uncolored leather, laced. The hat was
white. This livery was completed by a chain from one leg to
the other, the cuffs of which were closed by rivets headed down
on an anvil.


## p. 11278 (#498) ##########################################

11278
SILVIO PELLICO
HE TRIES TO LIVE ON THE "QUARTER-PORTION"
THE physician, seeing that none of us could eat the kind of
food that had been given us, put us upon what was called the
quarter-portion; that is, the diet of the hospital. This was some
very thin soup three times a day, a small piece of roast lamb
that might be swallowed at a mouthful, and perhaps three ounces
of white bread. As my health improved, that quarter was too
little. I tried to return to the food of the well, but it was so
disgusting that I could not eat it. It was absolutely necessary
that I should keep to the quarter; and for more than a year I
knew what are the torments of hunger.
Our barber, a young man who came to us every Saturday,
said to me one day, "It is reported in the city that they give
you gentlemen but little to eat. "
"It is very true," I replied. The next Saturday he brought
and offered me secretly a large loaf of white bread. Schiller pre-
tended not to see him offer it. If I had listened to my stomach,
I should have accepted it; but I stood firm in refusing, lest the
poor young man should be tempted to repeat his gift, which some
day might be a heavy mischief to him.
THE COMFORT AND THE PANG OF SYMPATHY
f us
"A
as
IT WAS from the first an established rule that each
should be permitted to walk for an hour twice a week.
pleasant walk to you! " each whispered through the opening
I passed his door; but I was not allowed to stop to salute y
one. In the court we met several passing Italian robbers, 10
saluted me with great respect, and said among themselves, "
is not a rogue like us, yet his imprisonment is more severe th
ours. " One of them once said to me, "Your greeting, signore
does me good. An unhappy passion dragged me to commit a
crime: O signore, I am not, indeed I am not, a villain. " Then
he burst into tears.

One morning, as I was returning from walking, the door of
Oroboni's cell stood open; Schiller was within, and had not heard
me coming. My guards stepped forward to close the door; but I
anticipated them, darted in, and was in the arms of Oroboni.
Schiller was dumbfounded. "Der Teufel! der Teufel! " he cried;
and raised his finger threateningly. But his eyes filled with tears,
and he exclaimed, "O my God, have mercy on these poor young


## p. 11279 (#499) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11279
men, and on me, and on all the unhappy, Thou who didst suffer
so much upon earth! " The guards shed tears also.
Oroboni said, «< Silvio, Silvio, this is one of the most pre-
cious days of my life! " When Schiller conjured us to separate,
and we were forced to obey him, Oroboni burst into a flood of
tears and said, "Shall we never see each other again upon
earth? " I never did see him more. Some months afterward
his room
was empty, and Oroboni was lying in that cemetery
which I had in front of my window.
AOLO [alone] -
PAOLO
Paolo-
MEETING OF FRANCESCA AND PAOLO
From Francesca da Rimini'
My love
To go,
To look on her for the last time.
Renders me deaf to duty's voice.
To see her nevermore, were sacred duty.
I cannot that. Oh, how she looked at me!
Grief makes her still more beautiful; ah, yes,
More beautiful, more superhuman fair
She seems to me: and have I lost her too?
Has Lanciotto snatched her from my arms?
Oh, maddening thought! Oh! oh! do I not love
My brother? Happy he is now, and long
May he be so.
But what? to build his own
Sweet lot must he a brother's heart-strings break?
Francesca [advancing without seeing Paolo]-
Francesca-
Where is my father? At the least from him
I might have known if he still lodges here.
My brother-in-law! These walls I ever shall
Hold dear. Ah, yes, his spirit will exhale
Upon this sacred soil which he has wet
With tears! O impious woman, chase away
Such criminal thoughts: I am a wife!
In a soliloquy, and groans.
Alas,
This place I must forsake: it is too full
Of him! To my own private altar I
Must go apart, and day and night, prostrate
Before my God, beg mercy for my sins;
--
She talks


## p. 11280 (#500) ##########################################

11280
SILVIO PELLICO
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
That He, the Lord and only refuge of
Afflicted hearts, will not abandon me
Entire.
Francesca
-
Sir- what wilt thou?
[She starts to go.
Oh! what do I see!
To speak with me?
To speak with thee again.
Alas, I am alone! —
O father, father, where art thou? Dost thou
Leave me alone? Thy own, thy daughter save!
I shall have strength to flee.
Abhor me.
Whither?
Alas, pursue me not! my wish respect;
To my house altar here I am retiring:
Th' unfortunate have need of heaven.
Paolo,
Alas! what do I say? Alas, weep not.
Thy death I do not ask.
Oh, sir-
O lady!
Paternal altars I will come to kneel
With thee. Who more unfortunate than I?
There shall our mingled thoughts ascend.
Thou shalt invoke my death, the death of him
Thou dost abhor. I too will pray that Heaven
Thy vows will hear, forgive thy hatred and
Pour joy into thy soul, and long preserve
The youth and beauty in thy looks, and give thee
All thy desire-all, all! -thy consort's love and
Beautiful children of him!
At my
Only thou dost
And what carest thou for it, if
I must abhor thee? I mar not thy life.
To-morrow I no longer shall be here.
Francesca, if thou dost abhor me, what
Is that to me? and this thou askest, thou?
And does thy hate disturb my life? and these
Funereal words are thine? — Thou, beautiful
As a bright angel whom the Deity,
In the most ardent transport of his love,
Created, dear to every one, and thou
A happy consort, - darest to talk of death.
Me it befalls that for vain honor's sake


## p. 11281 (#501) ##########################################

SILVIO PELLICO
11281
Francesca -
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca -
I have been dragged from fatherland afar,
And lost. Unhappy wretch! I lost a father.
Hope always clung to re-embrace him. He
Would not have made me an unfortunate,
If I had opened up my heart to him;
And would have given me her- her whom I've lost
For aye.
What dost thou mean? Talk of thy lady-
And dost thou live so wretched robbed of her?
Is love so prepotential in thy breast?
Love should not be the only flame that burns
In the bosom of a valorous cavalier.
Dear to him is his brand, and dear the trump
Of fame; noble affections these: pursue them.
Let not love make thee vile.
Is this?
What words are these?
Wouldst thou have pity? Wouldst thou still be able
Somewhat to cease thy hatred, if I should
With my good sword acquire some greater fame?
One word of thy command, 'tis done. Prescribe
The place, the years. To shores the most remote
I'll make my way; the graver I shall find
The enterprises, and the fuller fraught
With danger, so the sweeter they will be
To me, because Francesca laid them on me.
Honor and hardihood before have made
My sinews strong, but thy adorèd name
Will make them stronger. And, with thee intent,
Of tyrants now my glories will not be
Contaminate. Another crown than bay,
But woven still by thee, will I desire.
One single plaudit thine, one word, one smile,
One look-
Eternal God! what sort of man
Francesca, I love thee, I love thee,
And desperate is my love.
What do I hear!
Am I in a delirium?