y wandered down the west; it touched the
horizon's verge--it was lost! Its glories were on the summits of the
cliff--they grew dun and gray. The evening star shone bright. He will
soon be here.

He came not!--By the living heavens, he came not!--and night dragged out
its weary length, and, in its decaying age, "day began to grizzle its
dark hair;" and the sun rose again on the most miserable wretch that
ever upbraided its light. Three days thus I passed. The jewels and the
gold--oh, how I abhorred them!

Well, well--I will not blacken these pages with demoniac ravings. All
too terrible were the thoughts, the raging tumult of ideas that filled
my soul. At the end of that time I slept; I had not before since the
third sunset; and I dreamt that I was at Juliet's feet, and she smiled,
and then she shrieked--for she saw my transformation--and again she
smiled, for still her beautiful lover knelt before her. But it was not
I--it was he, the fiend, arrayed in my limbs, speaking with my voice,
winning her with my looks of love. I strove to warn her, but my tongue
refused its office; I strove to tear him from her, but I was rooted to
the ground--I awoke with the agony. There were the solitary hoar
precipices--there the plashing sea, the quiet strand, and the blue sky
over all. What did it mean? was my dream but a mirror of the truth? was
he wooing and winning my betrothed? I would on the instant back to
Genoa--but I was banished. I laughed--the dwarfs yell burst from my
lips--_I_ banished! Oh, no! they had not exiled the foul limbs I wore; I
might with these enter, without fear of incurring the threatened penalty
of death, my own, my native city.

I began to walk towards Genoa. I was somewhat accustomed to my distorted
limbs; none were ever so ill-adapted for a straightforward movement; it
was with infinite difficulty that I proceeded. Then, too, I desired to
avoid all the hamlets strewed here and there on the sea-beach, for I was
unwilling to make a display of my hideousness. I was not quite sure
that, if seen, the mere boys would not stone me to death as I passed,
for a monster: some ungentle salutations I did receive from the few
peasants or fishermen I chanced to meet. But it was dark night before I
approached Genoa. The weather was so balmy and sweet that it struck me
that the Marchese and his daughter would very probably have quitted the
city for their country retreat. It was from Villa Torella that I had
attempted to c