"Listen,' resumed the young widow. Signor Geronimo, I consent to see you again as often as you please, but no longer on the footing of a betrothed. Try to make me accustomed to your accent. Come as a friend, and even as a sixth suitor for my hand. The successor of poor Matteo, my first husband, is not yet chosen; that is all I can say, and I say it in order that you may not flatter yourself with chimerical illusions; at present, pray let us talk of the weather.' "It was in vain that the father, aunt, and prebendary lectured the beautiful Lidia; the abbé prayed and wept in vain the young Neapolitan was immovable. 66 6 adieu, iest he should again betray his fatal accent. In reconducting him to the door, the father advised him not to despair, dame Filippa made signs of encouragement, and Lidia gave him her hand at parting in a cordial manner, repeating that it was a great pity, but that all former arrangements must now be forgotten; the carriage-door was opened, the coachman drove on, and Geronimo, giving vent to his grief, wept like a child. 666 'Calm yourself, my good friend,' said the prebendary. Offer your sorrows to God, and enter again within the pale of the church. She is a good mother, and will console you. It is well for a priest to have known adversity. This experience will serve you at a later period. Having been unhappy at an early age, you will the sooner become a christian philosopher. It is well for a young man to recognise the worthlessness of terrestrial affections, and to despise the feebleness of poor humanity.' "that all hope "You think then,' said Geronimo, is lost ?' Hope still,' replied his friend; it would be sinful to despair.' "You speak about it very quietly and calmly,' resumed the young abbé; but I am desperately, madly in love. I shall not thus renounce my happiness. I will get rid of the fatal accent of my native town, and reconquer the heart of my adorable Lidia; since she loved me for two months without having seen me, she may yet love me again, and I will spare no pains to re-kindle that affection which is dearer to me than life itself.' "What I dreaded is then going to take place,' said the prebendary sighing; you will add to the number of extravagant abbés. I have only one piece of advice to give you: lay aside this dress, and give up your living.' “I will think of it, sir,' replied Geronimo. "In order to avoid a subject of conversation he did not like, our abbé buried his face in his handkerchief, and did not utter another word until they reached Naples. Having conducted the prebendary to his "Do not speak further on the subject,' said she, 'Signor Geronimo, for I feel an irresistible desire to laugh, and in spite of my sorrow and regret, and the pity I feel for you,—I shall burst into a fit of laughter if you continue to speak thus. It is a great pity, I confess, to break off so excellent an engagement for a motive apparently so frivolous; but there is no re-church, Geronimo dismissed the coachman and returned medy. If I were to marry a Bisceliais I should always fancy I had Don Pancrazio at my side. The tenderness and respect due to a husband would not accord with such an idea. Let us talk of the weather. Let us be good friends, and think no more of projects which I have already laid aside.' "The prebendary commenced by pretending to admire the flowers in the garden. Lidia instantly began talking with such carelessness and freedom, that Geronimo's misery was complete. He did not attempt to take part in the conversation, and the prebendary, seeing that his eyes were filled with tears, motioned him to take his hat and beat a retreat. The compliments which passed in speaking of the happiness experienced in making the acquaintance of M. l'Abbé, and of the pleasure that would be felt in receiving him, were like so many daggers to poor Geronimo. He scarcely ventured to open his mouth to murmur a faint on foot to his own house. Finding, however, that he was haunted continually by his distracting thoughts, he rose from the chair into which he had thrown himself half fainting on entering, and endeavoured to find relief to his mind in walking through the streets of Naples. In the course of his perambulations he reached the church of Santa Maria del Carmine. The sight of the place where he had first beheld her who was the cause of all his sorrow, tended only to increase his misery. He entered the church to contemplate the place where Lidia had sat when listening so attentively to the words of the preacher. Whilst dragging himself listlessly along the aisle, with the aid of the curious marbles which adorn the church, he stumbled against a seat, and fell, exhausted with grief, on the simple stone which marks the burial spot of the young and unfortunate Conradin, who was decapitated by order of Charles of Anjou. IV. 'Although his fall was the result of an accident, our abbé experienced a kind of pleasure in considering it the effect of his despair. Instead of raising himself, he remained stretched on the ground sighing deeply. "Oh Conradin !' exclaimed he mournfully, is it not dreadful that a mortal should be compelled to envy thy sad fate? I am, nevertheless, reduced to do it. Yes, I would willingly perish on the scaffold like thee. I should bless the axe which would deliver me from my love and my anguish. I bear in my heart the destroyer of my soul, and the barbarity of Charles of Anjou is not to be compared with the cruelty of my ungrateful mistress.' "A loud and singularly cheerful voice interrupted this lamentation. "Ah! Signor Troppi, what are you doing there? This is not the time to compare yourself to the nephew of Mainfroi. Let him sleep quietly there, and let us think of something merry. A Lidia has given you pain, a Luigia shall console you. It would be a pretty idea if at twenty years of age, with your handsome face, and in a town like Naples, you were to die of love for an ungrateful mistress. Come, take my hand, and get up.' "He who thus spoke was the notary's clerk, Marco, the sworn enemy of melancholy. In his merry little eyes, in his mouth, which stretched from ear to ear, and in the whole of his countenance, was to be seen good temper aided and improved by good living. 666 'Come with me,' continued Marco, raising the abbé like a child. I will revive your spirits with a glass of good wine.' "It is hemlock or opium that I want,' murmured Geronimo. "Bal!' resumed the clerk we will see in a little while whether you think of death or not.' "Don Marco then conducted the abbé to his own residence, situated in the Marché aux Poissons. Having taken three bottles of wine from a small case, "Let me show you, said he, how exactly each of these bottles is suited to your present situation. This one, for instance, bears, most assuredly, the most mournful name in the world: it is Lachryma Christi. You will not venture to affirm that your tears exceed in bitterness those of our divine Saviour. Drink this glass at a single draught, to render homage to the sufferings of the son of the Madonna, and to humble yourself before him.' 6 "Geronimo drank the wine, and found it excellent. "And this one,' exclaimed Marco, you will see if this does not come à propos. What is it a despairing lover does? He flees from his inhuman ladylove; he leaves his country; but you cannot leave the kingdom without permission, unless you lose your living. Where will you then go? To Sicily? Well, then, drink this glass of Marsala. It is the wine of the only country to which you can take your broken heart. This argument being unanswerable, nunc est bibendum. As to this bottle with a long and narrow neck,' continued Marco, it is for your especial benefit that God has sent it into the world. It contains muscatel from Syracuse, the delicious nectar which would soften the manners of a Carthaginian. Nothing more exquisitely delicate ever flowed from the vessels of Hebe. Taste this fine Muscatel, Signor Troppi, and if the black crape with which your imagination is hung, be not instantly changed into gauze more rosy than the shawl of Aurora, I shall give you up as really very ill. We shall thus judge of the depth of your wound.' The three glasses of wine being emptied, Marco struck the abbé on the shoulder, saying: "Now, young man, to action! let us take the devil by his horns. You are in despair? Very good!... You call death to your aid? Admirable! but wherefore? Ah! you have not thought of that. It is because you think your ungrateful mistress the most beautiful, the most amiable of women, and that you will never find a treasure to equal her. Now this is an error which you share with all ill-treated lovers. There is not one who, sooner or later, does not recognise his error. Now, if I were to oblige you to acknowledge it at once, without further painful delay, would it not be so much gained? Look around you, and you will see that the world is full of beautiful, good and amiable women; and when you see that, you will be consoled, you will marry, and will make me a wedding present!' "Alas! my dear Marco,' replied the abbé, 'I know very well that there are other good and beautiful women; but for me, Lidia alone lives. Lidia loves me not, therefore I wish to die!' "What a deuce of a reason that is!' returned Marco. Every one has his own tastes and inclinations. You love a woman, I love wine. Marsala pleases me; Muscatel charms me: am I indifferent to Lachryma Christi? not at all. If you were to see the numbers of pretty faces who enter the churches, and go and place the light burden of their consciences in the box for sins, you would be astonished at the riches and variety of their youthful charms. Do as I do, and say: Lidia is beautiful, but here are many other women who may compare with her. It would be barbarous to despise them, because an ungrateful beauty disdains or deceives me.' Then you will be reasonable in your tastes and inclinations.' "It is useless to speak of tastes and inclinations,' cried Geronimo. It is an unhappy passion, of which I confess the folly, but which I cannot subdue, that assassinates me, and inspires me with this longing for death. Instead of lecturing me in vain, tell me rather by what means I can get rid of an insupportable life without offending Heaven, for I do not wish to lose my soul with my body.' "A mischievous smile lurked in the corners of Marco's eyes. "That is different, Signor Troppi,' said he, I detest busy-bodies. I press the point no further. Get rid of your life, if you wish. I cannot suggest the means of dying you require, but I can direct you to a competent person. One of my friends, who, although not in the church, is more learned than an archbishop, and has written on cases of conscience, will indicate the right path to you. Wait, that I may give you a letter to the illustrissime docteur Jean Fabro.' "The clerk took up a pen and wrote the following note : "Doctor Jean, the bearer of this letter is a young Bisceliais, who wishes to die of love and despair, without going to hell. He is rich, half mad, and rather simple. Make a long story, and have a long consultation. A hundred piastres offered to the Virgin to atone for a crime which most assuredly he will never commit, will be divided between us. Do not grant him permission to kill himself. He will pay a tolerable price if you know how to flatter his feelings by appearing convinced of his despair.' "With the advice of Doctor Jean,' said Marco, folding the note, you will be able to enter paradise at any hour you choose to appoint.' : "Geronimo thanked his friend and hastened to the abode of the doctor, to whom he delivered the letter. | Dr. Jean Fabro perused the epistle attentively, then with a mild and compassionate manner exclaimed "How many young and handsome men thus perish, destroyed by fatal passions, like tender leaves dispersed by a furious north wind! You are suffering, my good friend; that is easily seen by your mournful eyes; you are unhappy!' "More so than I can express,' replied Geronimo, drying a tear. "Simple as he was, the good abbé had his little share of cunning. In pondering over the advice of doctor Jean, he asked himself what would be the good of Jean Fabro's interference, and whether the first confessor he found would refuse absolution at the enormous price of one hundred piastres. Besides, it was imprudence to pay so large a sum beforehand: despair might give place to courage at the last moment; many persons, resolved to die, had been known to fail and return to life. The Madonna would not restore money that had once been paid. The wisest plan was therefore to leave the hundred piastres to the church as a legacy, and to call a confessor before performing the last act. Having taken these resolutions the abbé paused. A few days' delay served to convince him that he could live without his Lidia. One morning he ordered his barber to bleed him in his left arm, pretending to suffer from head-ache, and after depositing his will in safe hands, he drove to Saint Jean Teduccio, accompanied by Antonietto, who was singing merrily behind the carriage, never fancying that his master was thus hastening to his end. At twenty steps from Lidia's house, the coachman stopped his horses as he had been ordered, and the lively face of the little groom appeared at the door of the carriage. "What are your commands, excellence?' said the boy. "Go and ring at the gate of the divine Lidia,' replied the abbé. When the servant opens the door, throw yourself on the ground, uttering lament "But have you sufficiently reflected on your fatal able cries, and say: Go quickly and call the signora, desire for death?' tell her to make haste, my master is there, dying in a carriage. He has not five minutes to live, and wishes to take an eternal farewell of your mistress. As soon as the signora, in tears, hastens from the house, you will bring her here, and then run to the Church in search of a priest.' "Antonietto, persuaded that his master was going to have a joke, motioned his head in token of obedience, and then hastened towards the house, but returning hastily to the carriage, he said : 666 No, tell her that I have been bled in the arm, that I have unfastened the bandage, and am bathed in my blood.' "The expedient with which I shall furnish you," replied the doctor, is infallible. You will not find it in the books of St. Augustin, St. Chrysostom, nor Excellence, if the contessina should ask of what St. Ambrose, nor any of the fathers of the church. my unfortunate master is dying, shall I answer, weepWe must go to the Spanish casuists. Now they telling, that it is of love or grief?' us that it is not forbidden to get a surgeon to bleed you. It is not a crime to unfasten the bandage; any accident might cause that, and your blood, which will flow freely of itself, will carry away also your innocent soul, which will naturally take its flight to heaven. A pious offering to the church will show that you had no criminal or impious design, and I will undertake, for a hundred piastres only, to procure you a confessor and absolution. You will pay him the money in advance, and then you will be at liberty to choose the time and place of your death.' "This expedient appears admirable,' said the abbé; 'all is arranged, I do not see that there would be any sin in it. Accept this piastre for the present, my dear sir, and when I have fixed the time of my death I will follow your advice scrupulously. 66 6 Very good, sir,' "When the abbé heard the broken words and lamentations of his groom, he took off his coat, removed his shirt sleeve, and put his hand to the bandage. "One moment!' thought he, if Lidia be not at home, my death will produce no effect.' "He waited until he heard the beautiful widow asking the cause of the noise, then slowly and with a trembling hand he unfastened the long bandage which was bound round his arm. On seeing the linen stained with blood fall on his knee, Geronimo recommended his soul to God. A cloud passed before his eyes, a |