Previous - next
All, however, attracted my
attention, brief as was the sight of them, and I truly
compassionated them. So sorrowful a spectacle for some time filled
me with grief, but by degrees I became habituated to it, and at last
it rather relieved than added to the horror of my solitude. A
number of women, also, who had been arrested, passed by. There was
a way from the gallery, through a large vault, leading to another
court, and in that part were placed the female prisoners, and others
labouring under disease. A single wall, and very slight, separated
my dwelling from that of some of the women. Sometimes I was almost
deafened with their songs, at others with their bursts of maddened
mirth. Late at evening, when the din of day had ceased, I could
hear them conversing, and, had I wished, I could easily have joined
with them. Was it timidity, pride, or prudence which restrained me
from all communication with the unfortunate and degraded of their
sex? Perhaps it partook of all. Woman, when she is what she ought
to be, is for me a creature so admirable, so sublime, the mere
seeing, hearing, and speaking to her, enriches my mind with such
noble fantasies; but rendered vile and despicable, she disturbs, she
afflicts, she deprives my heart, as it were, of all its poetry and
its love. Spite of this, there were among those feminine voices,
some so very sweet that, there is no use in denying it, they were
dear to me. One in particular surpassed the rest; I heard it more
seldom, and it uttered nothing unworthy of its fascinating tone.
She sung little and mostly kept repeating these two pathetic lines:-
Chi rende alla meschina
La sua felicita?
Ah, who will give the lost one
Her vanished dream of bliss?
At other times, she would sing from the litany. Her companions
joined with her; but still I could discern the voice of Maddalene
from all others, which seemed only to unite for the purpose of
robbing me of it. Sometimes, too, when her companions were
recounting to her their various misfortunes, I could hear her
pitying them; could catch even her very sighs, while she invariably
strove to console them: "Courage, courage, my poor dear," she one
day said, "God is very good, and He will not abandon us."
How could I do otherwise than imagine she was beautiful, more
unfortunate than guilty, naturally virtuous, and capable of
reformation? Who would blame me because I was affected with what
she said, listened to her with respect, and offered up my prayers
for her with more than usual earnestness of heart. Innocence is
sacred, and repentance ought to be equally respected. Did the most
perfect of men, the Divinity on earth, refuse to cast a pitying eye
on weak, sinful women; to respect their fear and confusion, and rank
them among the minds he delighted to consort with and to honour? By
what law, then, do we act, when we treat with so much contempt women
Previous - next
