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in restraining my passion, when on the point of breaking out, and
felt vexed that I had permitted it to obtain any ascendancy over me.
My mental faculties were strengthened by the habit of writing down
my thoughts; I got rid of all my vanity, and reduced the chief part
of my reasonings to the following conclusions: There is a God:
THEREFORE unerring justice; THEREFORE all that happens is ordained
to the best end; consequently, the sufferings of man on earth are
inflicted for the good of man.
Thus, my acquaintance with Angiola had proved beneficial, by
soothing and conciliating my feelings. Her good opinion of me had
urged me to the fulfilment of many duties, especially of that of
proving one's self superior to the shocks of fortune, and of
suffering in patience. By exerting myself to persevere for about a
month, I was enabled to feel perfectly resigned.
Angiola had beheld me two or three times in a downright passion;
once, as I have stated, on account of her having brought me bad
coffee, and a second time as follows:-
Every two or three weeks the jailer had brought me a letter from
some of my family. It was previously submitted to the Commission,
and most roughly handled, as was too evident by the number of
ERASURES in the blackest ink which appeared throughout. One day,
however, instead of merely striking out a few passages, they drew
the black line over the entire letter, with the exception of the
words, "My DEAREST SILVIO," at the beginning, and the parting
salutation at the close, "ALL UNITE IN KINDEST LOVE TO YOU."
This act threw me into such an uncontrollable fit of passion, that,
in presence of the gentle Angiola, I broke out into violent shouts
of rage, and cursed I know not whom. The poor girl pitied me from
her heart; but, at the same time, reminded me of the strange
inconsistency of my principles. I saw she had reason on her side,
and I ceased from uttering my maledictions.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
One of the under-jailers one day entered my prison with a mysterious
look, and said, "Sometime, I believe, that Siora Zanze (Angiola) . .
. was used to bring you your coffee . . . She stopped a good while
to converse with you, and I was afraid the cunning one would worm
out all your secrets, sir."
"Not one," I replied, in great anger; "or if I had any, I should not
be such a fool as to tell them in that way. Go on."
"Beg pardon, sir; far from me to call you by such a name . . . But I
never trusted to that Siora Zanze. And now, sir, as you have no
longer any one to keep you company . . . I trust I--"
"What, what! explain yourself at once!"
"Swear first that you will not betray me."
"Well, well; I could do that with a safe conscience. I never
betrayed any one."
"Do you say really you will swear?"
"Yes; I swear not to betray you. But what a wretch to doubt it; for
any one capable of betraying you will not scruple to violate an
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