m affection, and generous pardon
would follow my repentance. Profitless words for a young and gentle
daughter to use to a man accustomed to make his will law, and to feel in
his own heart a despot so terrible and stern, that he could yield
obedience to nought save his own imperious desires! My resentment grew
with resistance; my wild companions were ready to add fuel to the flame.
We laid a plan to carry off Juliet. At first it appeared to be crowned
with success. Midway, on our return, we were overtaken by the agonized
father and his attendants. A conflict ensued. Before the city guard came
to decide the victory in favor of our antagonists, two of Torella's
servitors were dangerously wounded.

This portion of my history weighs most heavily with me. Changed man as I
am, I abhor myself in the recollection. May none who hear this tale ever
have felt as I. A horse driven to fury by a rider armed with barbed
spurs, was not more a slave than I to the violent tyranny of my temper.
A fiend possessed my soul, irritating it to madness. I felt the voice of
conscience within me; but if I yielded to it for a brief interval, it
was only to be a moment after torn, as by a whirlwind, away--borne along
on the stream of desperate rage--the plaything of the storms engendered
by pride. I was imprisoned, and, at the instance of Torella, set free.
Again I returned to carry off both him and his child to France; which
hapless country, then preyed on by freebooters and gangs of lawless
soldiery, offered a grateful refuge to a criminal like me. Our plots
were discovered. I was sentenced to banishment; and as my debts were
already enormous, my remaining property was put in the hands of
commissioners for their payment. Torella again offered his mediation,
requiring only my promise not to renew my abortive attempts on himself
and his daughter. I spurned his offers, and fancied that I triumphed
when I was thrust out from Genoa, a solitary and penniless exile. My
companions were gone: they had been dismissed the city some weeks
before, and were already in France. I was alone--friendless; with nor
sword at my side, nor ducat in my purse.

I wandered along the sea-shore, a whirlwind of passion possessing and
tearing my soul. It was as if a live coal had been set burning in my
breast. At first I meditated on what _I should do_. I would join a band
of freebooters. Revenge!--the word seemed balm to me:--I hugged
it--caressed it--till, like a serpent, it