myself. She was being forced to take the veil against her will—doubtless in order to curb that love of pleasure which had already asserted itself in her character, and which, in after days, was the cause of all her misfortunes and my own. I combated the cruel intentions of her parents with all the arguments that my new-born love and scholastic eloquence could suggest. She affected neither severity nor disdain, and told me, after a moment's silence, that she foresaw, only too clearly, how unhappy she was going to be; but that it was apparently the will of Heaven, as there was no way of escaping her fate.
The tender glances and the winning air of sadness with which she accompanied these words—nay, rather let me say, the dominating influence of my destiny, which was hurrying me on to my ruin—did not allow me a moment's time for reflection as to what my answer should be. I assured her that if she would but rely on my honor and on the deep affection with which she had already inspired me, I would lay down my very life to deliver her from the tyranny of her parents, and to secure her happiness.
Many a time have I wondered, in reflecting over this incident, how I succeeded in mustering up such boldness and facility of expression; but Love would not rank among the gods did he not often work miracles.
