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but if any were disposed to open murmurs, they were silenced by the bold measures of Sforza himself.

she knew to be no other than the monarch, and with | Milanese nobles without dark surmises concerning the dignity that shone through her ineffable grief, extended mysterious illness and death of their young sovereign; her hand, which the king took in reverence, while he strove to console her by whispering words of comfort. The Regent hung aloof, for he dared not approach the person of the woman he had so grievously injured. Charles expressed in cordial terms his sorrow and sympathy-offering aught in his power to administer to the comfort of herself and her infant son. Commonplace words-prompted by indifferent pity!

On the morrow, at sunrise, the ducal council was convened, when the leading members, at his instigation, declared it improper and impolitic, in those perilous times, to suffer the infant son of Galeazzo to ascend his father's throne; declared it necessary to appoint a sovereign of wisdom and established authority; dispensed with the disposition of the law, for the sake of public safety, and transferred the ducal dignity to the

"Much-much you might do, sire"-cried Isabel, while the tears that refused to flow at the stroke of anguish, rained from her eyes at the first accent of kind-person of the Regent. The announcement of the deness-"alas! we can do nought for ourselves! The heir of this wide dukedom is a helpless pensioner on the charity of his kinsman; he commands nought in the realm he was born to rule!"

cree was received with applause by the volatile populace; and when the newly elected prince came forth, invested with the title and ensigns of authority, it was amid the cheers of the multitude, mingled with the

“If-noble madam-you would accept our protec-music of cymbals and trumpets, that the heralds pro

tion"

"Not so gracious sire"-interrupted the lady. "The daughter of Naples needs not that. I will retire to the kingdom of my father. Tell me"-she continued, as Charles gazed on her in evident compassion, "tell me, your majesty-for in the seclusion of these chambers I have learned but little of the affairs of courts-is it true that you are come into Italy for the purpose of driving Alphonso from his dominions ?"

This direct appeal pleased not the king; he prayed the princess to be composed, and not seek to know what might give her pain.*

"Nay then"--she cried-"it is so ;--the curse of unholy ambition would make our house its prey-smiting down one victim, even while another lies cold and stricken before it! Oh sire!" she faltered in a voice of agony-"be moved to compassion by woes it is in your power to change to gratitude! Spare him-spare my father-and his people-the family of princes who honor you as the model of chivalry and generosity! Pour not-I beseech you, upon my native land the horrors of war!"

"Lady"—said the monarch, "the determinations of statesmen and kings are not wont to be reversed at a woman's supplication. Nor could I recede with honor from this enterprise, even if I chose !"

"Let his head, then, at least, be sacred to you!" exclaimed the princess-looking up to Charles in earnest appealing anguish; "promise me you will spare my father's life!"

"His person and liberty shall be ever sacred in my eyes," answered the king; "doubly so, since he is dear to Isabel of Arragon. If the destinies grant me success, I will promise you he shall not be without a friend."

"Alas! what would be life to him, stripped of fame and the possessions of his ancestors? But I claim, sire, your promise! Farewell!" and the duchess exchanged kind adieus with the king-though she repelled the timidly offered courtesies of Ludovico, as they separated. The king of France departed for Piacenza, not unsuspicious of the fidelity of Ludovico to his cause, and of the crimes into which the crafty ambition of the Regent had betrayed him; but he expressed not by word or look his rising dissatisfaction. Nor were the *Guicciardi states the fact of Isabel's appeal to Charles in

behalf of her father.

claimed LUDOVICO SFORZA-DUKE OF MILAN.

CHAP. II.

THE FALL.

-Soft-I did but dream!

O coward conscience! how dost thou afflict me! King Richard Third. Heaven had decreed that the flame Ludovico had kindled in Italy should at last prove the destruction of its author. The death of Charles VIII, instead of delivering Italy from foreign invasion, raised up to her republics a more formidable adversary in the person of his successor, Louis XII, a sovereign more mature in years, more experienced in military affairs, and, beyond comparison, steadier and more inflexible in his resolutions than his predecessor. That which rendered him terrible in the eyes of Ludovico was his claim to the Duchy of Milan, which claim he professed to derive from his grandmother, Valentine Visconti, who had been given in marriage to the duke of Orleans, when her father, Gian Galeazzo Visconti, was as yet only imperial vicar. However questionable the title thence derived, it was at least equal in right to that by which the family of Sforza held the ducal throne.

The situation of the Duke of Milan presented facilities to the French king for effecting his ruin, which appeared auspicious to the enterprise. Unpopular in the eyes of his subjects, by reason of his usurpation, and odious to many of his nobles on account of the mysterious circumstances of his nephew's death, he had, by a selfish and ambitious policy, by frequent breaches of faith and treaty, rendered the neighboring states his enemies. Venice, incensed at his conduct in the war of Pisa, readily entered into the views of France; they concluded a treaty with Louis, by which they bound themselves to assist in the conquest of Milan, by aiding in its invasion, in return for the promised cession of Cremona and a part of the territory. The Pope had already been secured in favor of the designs of Louis XII;-and, deserted on all sides by pretended friendsassailed by enemies of overwhelming power-looking vainly for protection to sovereigns who despised or detested him-Sforza saw the hour approaching in which he was destined to reap the just fruits of a life of usurpation and perfidy. The sovereign of Germany VOL. IV.-6

poet of Italy; but alas! oppressed at home as well as abroad--what choice was left her!

Ludovico was not naturally cruel, but his desire of power had betrayed him into crime, and a narrow and selfish policy had shut him out from the means of re

was at war with the Swiss; the king of Spain had concluded a friendly treaty with France, in which no stipulations were made in favor of any of the Italian States; Florence was attached to Louis; and though the king of Naples, the descendant of the monarch the duke had so basely injured, promised to lend him as-trieving his fortunes; he had lost the good will of the sistance in repelling the invader, he well knew such multitude by the unreasonable imposition of burthens, aid must be inefficient, since the kingdom of Frederic and his efforts to regain their allegiance by concessions was so exhausted by recent struggles that he was una- only provoked their contempt. In like manner his duble to provide for his own security. In his extremity plicity and false shows of friendship had secured the Ludovico turned his eyes to the enemies of Christen- enmity and scorn of the neighboring republics, who dom, and persuaded the Turkish sultan to attack the rejoiced unanimously in his downfall. republic of Venice; but this diversion in his favor could not turn aside the fate that was pursuing him with hasty strides; nor could all his preparations for resistance retard the moment in which it was to overtake him.

The crowd grew denser about the palace as the shadows of night fell over the city; and fresh tumult was presently excited by the arrival of a courier. The citizens thronged eagerly around him to question him of his tidings; but he halted not till he had delivered the despatches, of which he was bearer, into the hands of a guard at the great gate, appointed to convey them to the duke.

The duke sate in his cabinet; the apartment was gloomy, for no lights had yet been brought; but not more

The French, in an incredibly short time completed the conquest of the principal cities of the Milanese territory. Their vigor and ferocity, as well as the swiftness of their marches, struck such terror into the Italian soldiery, that they dared not even show face to the invaders; the people, oppressed with taxes, and disaffec-gloomy than his own breast, racked by stormy passions, ted to the usurpation of Ludovico, everywhere received and a prey to disordered apprehensions. A shield, a shirt their foreign conquerors with demonstrations of joy. of mail, and other articles of armor, lay in a recess formed The rapid progress of the enemy terribly alarmed by one of the embrasures; their presence, as they lay Sforza, who seeing his sovereignty, like a weather- in confusion, indicated the troubled state of the times, beaten edifice, sinking into ruins, lost at once his pru- but far less so than the dark visage and despondent air dence and resolution, and had recourse to expedients of Sforza himself. A stupor seemed to have settled which, the common refuge of despair, served only to on his usually elastic and energetic spirit. He sate discover the greatness of the danger, without procuring gazing fixedly, but vacantly, upon a heap of papers and comfort or relief. He ordered a list to be taken of all charts confusedly strewn on the table before him; and the men in the city of Milan capable of bearing arms, though the tumult without, and the trumpets summonthen summoning a general assembly of the inhabitants, ing the watch, came to his ears, he seemed as if unconto whom he was odious on account of the taxes-abol-scious of aught connected with the external world. ished many of the heaviest in their presence, and ad- Despatch after despatch, bearing intelligence of unexdressed them in a conciliatory speech. This measure, pected loss, or of the defection of some friend, had however, had no effect in stemming the tide of his un-arrived in the course of the afternoon; and worn out popularity. with agitation and disappointment, Sforza had at length ceased, in the depth of his despair, to contemplate the evils before him.

"Read them, good Bernadino, read them and tell us of their import: even ill tidings fall less harshly from thy lips-and alas! all tidings are now ill-for Milan. But I forget me―let the varlets bring lights—without there!" and his summons was speedily answered by the entrance of a squire bearing wax torches.

On the evening of a beautiful day, the citizens of the capital, occupied in discussing, in separate groups, the new and strange events, the intelligence of which He was soon, however, sensible of the presence of hourly reached their ears-all ordinary affairs having an intruder; the governor of the castle of Milan, Bergiven way before those of more pressing importance-nadino da Corte, stood at his side, and presented the were assembled about the palace and public buildings, despatches brought by the last messenger. partly for the purpose of obtaining more readily any news that might be brought by fresh couriers, and partly with that natural love of congregating which in times of extraordinary excitement, brings men invariably together. It would have been difficult for a stranger, who beheld the faces in this motley assemblage, or listened to the conversation, to surmise the nature of those occurrences that claimed public attention; to surmise that these men, who with careless glee, or wonder, unmixed with dismay, were recounting to each other what they had severally learned-were on the point of becoming the prey of a foreign enemy. It mattered little to this volatile race, impatient of change, by whom they were ruled-Ludovico, or Louis of France. The majority of the giddy populace saw in the prospect of a change of masters a certainty of bettering their condition; and heeded little who was to be arbiter of their fate.

"Per servir sempre, o vincitrice o vinta."-

The governor broke the seals, cut asunder the cord which secured the papers, and proceeded to recount their contents to his prince, who listened in sullen apathy till the reader paused as he glanced at one of the letters.

"Say on," said Ludovico.

"The Count Gajazzo—"

"Ha! the brave count! then here is somewhat to retrieve disaster. What of Gajazzo? Hath he joined his brother ?"

"The bridge has been laid, but the count never intended such a junction. He hath leagued with the French!" "Now God defend me, if what thou sayest be true!

was the reproach uttered against his native land by a Give me the paper!" Rising hastily, the duke snatched

"Your highness was warned of him." "True-Bernadino-but who could suspect him? so young, so devoted, so loaded with benefits? Ah! those are the weights that sink me downward! He was jealous of his brother's promotion to the command." "Here is news that will disturb your highness yet more deeply," said Bernadino, showing a few hurried lines from one of the commanders of the Milanese forces at Alexandria. "Alexandria is lost. Galeazzo himself hath deserted his post, and fled with a party of horse. Pavia hath declared for the foe! I grieve to say it, my lord, but we can no longer hold out this city against the arms of Louis, thus deserted by our confederates."

the pacquet from the governor's hands, and read | mother of his murdered nephew seemed to rise to his eagerly, while his eyes glared on it as if they would view; her dark hair dishevelled, her eyes flashing fire, devour the lines. Then, as the certainty of his favo- her lips uttering imprecations against the destroyer of rite's treachery forced itself on him, he let fall the letter, her son. Then appeared the leering visage of the phyand sank again into his chair. sician, Malvezzi, the instrument of his atrocious designs-whom the duke had sent to Germany--his face wearing its usual expression of impudent cunningleading by the hand, with a meaning smile, the hapless youth who had fallen a victim to Sforza's ambition. The ghastly eyes of this apparition were fixed full on the face of Ludovico, who chilled with horror, had no power to avert his gaze. He half sprang, in convulsive agony, from the couch ;-he grasped the bed clothing and held it up before him, as if striving to shut out the vision; still those stony and immoveable eyes were upon him, and he felt his heart wither beneath them. Then the three seemed, encircling him, to approach more closely; he almost felt the touch of cold and clammy hands;-shivering with terror, he shrunk backward but had no strength to withdraw from them; then the near clash of armor, and the hoarse peal of the drum, burst on his ear, and he heard the insulting shouts of Frenchmen—and knew he was about to be delivered, a bound and helpless victim into the hands of his foes, by the superhuman avengers who seemed to have the control of his destiny. Bursting with a mighty effort the spell, which had held his senses in horrid thrall—the duke sprang to his feet; but though now fully awake, strove in vain to collect his faculties. The same sounds he had seemed to hear were still in his ears; the roar of musquetry, distant shouts, and the peal of warlike music. The whole palace was in tumult. Presently the door of the royal closet was burst open with impetuous haste, and a figure strode in-whom the bewildered duke might deem at the moment the avenger of his vision. Crouched helplessly beside the couch, his hands clasped and raised upwards as if imploring mercy-in supernatural terror Ludovico awaited the intruder.

The duke made no reply, but paced the apartment with rapid strides, apparently laboring to make up his mind to some speedy and decisive resolution. At length he stopped, speaking in a determined tone.

"Let the cardinal remove the young princes this night, to Como. I myself will follow in a few days." “Your highness—and whither ?”

"To Maximilian! From him came the investiture of this Duchy-let him protect the sovereign he has created!" and with a laugh of bitterness, Sforza sate down to the table; with unsteady hands traced a few lines, which he folded, and summoning a servant, delivered the letter into his hands.

"This to the cardinal-my brother Ascanio-with speed-varlet—with speed! Let him see to this-I will speak with him further on the morrow."

Flight was the only resource remaining to the fallen duke; and he was resolved to embrace this last alternative. Germany was open to the fugitive, and thither he despatched his sons, intending soon to claim with them the protection of the Emperor.

"It is well you are awakened," cried Ascanio-for it was he; "away-for the love of heaven! Away--and for life! Ha, brother! forgive my abruptness-but you have not a moment to lose!"

"What hath chanced ?" at length faltered the duke. "The French are upon us! in this town-beneath these very walls! Hark!" as the heavy sweep of ordnance, and the peal of drums and trumpets came nearer and nearer-"they are coming down the square. They were encamped at sunset within six miles of the city."

Sforza listened in a stupor of dismay.

"Philip del Fresco knew of it! Would to heaven you had never trusted the base traitor!"

The watch was set; and dismissing his minister, the duke retired to his chamber;-flinging himself half dressed upon his couch to seek the repose necessary for his flight on the morrow. But though wearied and harassed in spirit, he wooed in vain the sleep which came unsought to his meanest soldier! The events of past years crowded thickly before him-those years which had only recorded his breaches of trust, and the selfish manœuvreings of his policy. He had been ruined by the very measures he had adopted for his aggrandizement: the spells he had labored to weave with so much art, had wrought to his own destruction. Yet he felt not remorse in this moment of partial retribution; disappointed and dismayed he was, but he looked not to his own ambitious selfishness as the cause of all his disasters. He lay wrapped in gloomy reflections, as the occasional flourish of trumpets and the clash of arms without announced the change of the guard-and told that hour after hour was elapsingbringing nearer the dreaded dawn, in which he was to consummate his misfortunes by the abandonment of his dominions to his victorious enemy! The lights grew paler, and the duke sank gradually into a state of par- "Brother," cried Ascanio-" this castle is already tial unconsciousness, rather than slumber, in which his surrendered! Bernadino is false! The keys of this feverish phantasies were embodied in shape, and pre-impregnable citadel he hath laid already at the feet of the sent to his excited imagination. The phantom of the French general."

"Philip! hath he too betrayed me ?" cried the unfortunate sovereign, roused to energy as he heard the name of his most cherished favorite coupled with treachery-" then all is gone! I am ready to depart― but where is the governor? We will not leave this castle the prey of the invaders, without striking a blow in its defence. He can occupy them here, while we make good our retreat."

"Perfidious wretch!" groaned the duke.

crimes. And when, after tedious and weary months of hope and disappointment, at the court of Maximilian, fortune seemed once more to smile on him-when by use of the treasures he had preserved, he had succeeded in

"Waste not time in reproaches-there is no safety but in instant flight! The people welcome the enemy we must begone through the darkness, and escape by the private postern. Tarry not for garniture, or leave-levying an army of Burgundian and Swiss mercenataking-away!"

ries, and had nearly recovered his Duchy-recalled by Sforza left the palace hastily under the guidance of the voice of the fickle people--when he was once more his brother; they joined in a place of concealment a about to taste the cup of prosperity, it was unexpectsmall body of infantry and men at arms, and accompa-edly dashed from his lips. The Swiss bands in his sernied by the only true servants in all his court, the Cardinal de Este and Sanseverino, the fallen sovereign set out on his midnight flight. As he threaded with his companions the narrow streets of Milan, he heard the warlike music and the exulting shouts of the victorious French, who had thus won the capital without strife; but those sounds thrilled him not with anguish and mortification, as did the insane and riotous delight of the Milanese populace, receiving their conquerors with tumultuous acclamations. Breathing a malediction on the heartless rabble, the duke pursued his way till without the walls of a metropolis, where his reign was at an end; when his party, perceiving a group of French soldiers in the vicinity, approached and prepared to give them battle. Their leader, however, prevented any movement of hostility-and riding up to Ludovico, saluted him with ostentatious courtesy.

"Traitor!" cried the duke, who recognized in the faint light the faithless Count Gajazzo--“ darest thou address thine injured master ?"

vice, finding his treasures exhausted, mutinied, and sold his person into the hands of the French-abandoning him in spite of promises, tears and prayers, on the very eve of success! Disguised in the habit of a Swiss private sentinel, as the last chance for escape, he passed through the French army in military order with the rest. Here a fearful retribution overtook him ;—as he passed the last battalion, his bosom beating high with hope, and apparently unknown to all-his steps were arrested by a vision of terror, scarce less appalling than those conscience often summoned to his nightly couch; for the voice of MALVEZZI, sounding in his ears like that of the accusing demon, startled him from his fancied security.

"Ha--mine ancient patron! is it thus we meet?"

From Germany the physician had returned to his own country, to find patronage among the conquering French. His recognition of his master was fatal to the unfortunate duke, thus filling the measure of punishment. Ludovico was seized and conducted to the French King at Lyons; an object of wonder and pity to the spectators, who read in his fate a humiliating lesson on human grandeur. Refused admission to the

"Nay-good your highness," returned the count, "since it is your princely pleasure to leave your hapless subjects, it were but just they should have liberty to transfer their allegiance to the successor of your high-presence of Louis, the remaining years of his miserable A noble one have you chosen in the royal Louis; life were passed in a foreign prison; a narrow dwelling I commend your selection-and trust me, will do my for the man whose thoughts and ambition all Italy was best to honor the choice. Fair sirs-good even!" and scarce sufficient to circumscribe! bowing till his plume touched his horse's neck, the count rode back to his troop.

ness.

Before Sforza could give vent to the boiling rage the cruel insolence of his revolted servant roused in his breast, he was hurried on by his companions, who would risk no skirmishes in their pressing peril. They reached Como, eighteen miles distant, before day break-whence they were rowed as far as Bellagio. The beauty of the lake, illuminated by the beams of the rising sun, and shadowed by the steep mountains that embosomed it, sleeping in its calm loveliness-the deep rich green of the foliage, and the golden glory of the morning--the lively appearance of the numerous small fishing boats shooting here and there over the bright waters-formed a scene that contrasted painfully with the mood of the fugitives.

MISFORTUNE.

BY JOHN CARROLL BRENT.

There is nothing we gain without toil and trouble,
Possession is sadden'd by pain,

And thousands are dup'd with the gleam of a bubble,
Which bursts to entice them again.

"Tis proven by Time and Experience's test,
That he who's the same in misfortune and mirth,
Is only the blest

Of the children of earth.

sorrow

Shall wither the cords of the mind,
And the fancy evokes all the ills of the morrow
To its own real interests blind,-
There is yet in our power a subject to cheer,
Which pours the sweet balm o'er the wounds of the
heart,

The duke proceeded to Bornio, his way lying through When the world shall grow cold, and the touches of all the towns where, but a short time before, in the height of his prosperity and glory, he had entertained Maximilian so magnificently, who at that time, had more the appearance of an officer in the Venetian service, than of a king of the Romans. Now, crownless and landless, Ludovico re-entered the cities that had witnessed his triumphs, pursued by a victorious enemy, and by the troops of the traitor Gajazzo, who hung on his footsteps till he reached the borders of the Emperor's dominions.

Which dries up the tear
When 'tis ready to start.

Thus was the downfall of the artful and ambitious In the storm's fearful hour when the mountainous billow prince, so rapid and complete, prepared by his own

Is dashing in wildness along,

When the north wind has risen in might from his pillow,
And peals forth his terrible song-
The sailor may see with his intellect's eye
The Being who lash'd the deep sea into foam,
And calmly rely

On his mercies to come.

Then shame on the man who when pain is in power,
Shall yield to the ills of to-day-
To-morrow may bring back the sun to the bower
Which now droops because he's away!
Amid the wild storm which a moment unchained
Sweeps far o'er the breast of the perilous wave,
The plank when attain'd
May snatch from the grave!

THE PERILS OF PASSION.

BY HORATIO KING.

"Your sorrows are self-bought, and you may reap The iron harvest that your hand has sown."

"We are then left to our own meagre resources," said Julia; "Adams' promised aid will never be realized."

"What aid?" asked Henry, hesitatingly-for he saw in the countenance of Julia a look of disappointment. "You know it was not for love that I married you, Henry. You have not forgotten that James Adams influenced me to accept your hand. He promised, when he should be possessed of his uncle's immense estate, to furnish me with the means of living in affluence, notwithstanding your poverty. That alone overcame my objections to be your wife," said Julia peevishly.

Henry was struck with astonishment. It is true, he had not always lived on the happiest terms with his wife-having before frequently discovered in her signs of dissatisfaction. Attributing this misfortune, however, more to poverty than the want of affection, which he supposed was only overclouded in consequence of his unsuccessful endeavors to acquire an easy competency, he suffered it in silence. But, to be thus saluted by a wife he sincerely loved, and at such a time too, was calculated to produce in his mind most disagreeable reflections; it was as the funeral knell of his earthly

"We have strange news to-night, Julia," said Henry happiness. What-thought he has it come to this! Lee, one evening, addressing his wife.

Henry had just returned from the village; and his countenance betokened that something unusual had occurred.

In two short years, have I thus been brought to experience what, but yesterday, I confidently believed could never be my lot to suffer!

"Julia," said he sternly, "I am astonished! What

"What-what news, Henry ?" inquired Julia, with means this sudden outbreak against your husband? some surprise.

The death of our friend Adams." "Adams! is James Adams dead? I saw him in apparent good health this morning; what can have caused his death so suddenly?-a fit-a fall-or a duel, perhaps."

"No, neither,” replied Henry; "he put an end to his own existence immediately after dinner. His body was found suspended in the chamber of his store at four o'clock."

"Poor man! yesterday his goods were attached; is not his failure in business the supposed cause of this dreadful act?"

"Yes; he left a note, in which he said that he had lost all, and preferred death rather than a life of poverty and disgrace."

"But the fortune promised him by his uncle at Hartford, would have made him independent. Was he not sure of that large estate, at the demise of Mr. Harwood?"

Have I deserved this treatment from you? Do you thus requite my kindness and love?"

"Poverty! poverty! poverty!" responded Julia, with a contemptuous look; "we are doomed to live in poverty. Had you the spirit of a man, there would be some reason to hope that the time might come, when we should not be pointed at as the poorest family in the neighborhood."

"Julia," said the husband, "I have heard enough. You have inflicted a wound on my feelings that I fear never will be healed. This moment would I give worlds, could the scenes of this day prove to be but a dream! I can bear the buffetings and the frowns of a cold and selfish world without; but domestic bickerings and quarrels are too much for me. How often have you heard me declare, that I never would permit this destroying spirit to enter the circle of my domestic life. Alas! it even now threatens to drive me mad!-me—a father, too! Behold that innocent one-she, who has scarcely reached the age of one year-dependent upon us for protection-for life! And shall we suffer ourselves to be torn asunder, and disgraced forever, by our own folly-nay, crimes! Julia, it cannot be. Talk of poverty! But for me, long since would you have been a beggar in the streets."

"He was. But he was this morning informed of the death of his uncle. With this intelligence, came also the report that the property had all been willed to his uncle's attorney and particular friend, Mr. Lawson. It was too much he gave way to the feelings of despair, and committed the fatal deed, without once reflecting "Say what you will, Henry, you are the cause of all that the sun of prosperity might again shine upon him. my unhappiness," continued Julia, covering her face; Had he waited even until now, he would never have" and were I free from you, with my own hands would been guilty of the awful crime of self-murder; for a letter from his agent in Hartford, received this evening, contradicts the unfavorable report of this morning, and states that Mr. Harwood is recovering from a severe attack of the fever, which had threatened to prove fatal. His uncle had willed him the sum of two hundred thousand dollars."

I obtain the means of securing to myself the pleasures of society. Enough have I seen of your incapacity, and of your want of interest in all that renders life agreeable. I will bear it no longer. Would to Heaven, that the scenes, not only of to-day, but of the last two years of my life, were a dream! Widowhood were preferable to my present condition !"

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