Page:Francesca Carrara 2.pdf/299

296 not in a vain belief that penance may efface the past;—no, if years of desperate despair—of that agony which lays prostrate body and mind—may not avail, no form, no prayer, may, can have greater power. I enter the gloomy abbey, because its solitude offers me all that I seek. I desire no communion with my fellow-men; in the treasury of my remembrance are garnered the few thoughts that are precious, and they are sacred to myself alone. I do not need to speak of them—to me language has long lost its sweetness and its privilege. To live so mechanically that nothing in life can break in upon my meditations—to gaze on that most lovely and beloved face, and dream that even so it will meet me beyond the grave—to be so utterly by myself that no evil influence of mine can extend to those still very dear—is all I ask on this side the tomb.

"I feel calm—even content. The quiet of the sacred walls is on me even now. I could deem, that they had power to sanctify my words; and I almost—yes, I do—dare to say, God bless you! and farewell!

"."

Francesca's tears fell fast upon the scroll, and some time elapsed before either could speak. Guido was the first to break the silence.