ke so bitterly of the world and of man. He
who has lost his self-respect, possesses only half the power of
resisting Evil. Since the Abbess had seen him giving way to weakness,
since those immediately surrounding him did not hold him in so high
esteem, since the congregation looked on him with suspicion, he neared
the brink of the Abyss closer than ever. All seemed alike to him. Why
should he not become like Sylvan, Neuser and hundreds of others, who in
spite of their sins rejoiced in the approval of their fellow citizens?
He also had hot blood in his veins, and his passions cried out for
satisfaction, lust and love. He had sucked a sweet poison from Lydia's
lips, which boiled in his veins. Day and night did he feel soft full
lips and warm arms encircling him. The heart of the Neapolitan beat
tempestuously under the pedantic garb of a german Magister. Of an
evening he hastened to the town, where at the Hirsch he was received
coldly, and kept at a distance. In his excitement he poured beaker
after beaker of wine down his throat, to do as did the others, and then
left earlier than usual to wander through the streets of the town in a
fevered state of mind. His heated fantasy played him many a trick. He
saw Lydia in every young form. Often did he think, that the women were
luring him with their gaze, that each one who turned aside sought to
entice him down a side street. Then did he clench his teeth, the blood
rushed to his temples, and rapidly did he press forwards till he
arrived breathless and with hurriedly beating heart to his room in the
Stift. As the imprisoned stag in February tears with outspread antlers
the ground, and with wild cry pants for the forest, so did the Man in
Laurenzano bound down with hundred chains call for freedom from the
spiritual yoke; and when gloomy and savage he came out of his room, the
pious women hurried out of his way with affright, he seemed to them so
ill and weird, and even Fran Sabina began to feel doubtful as to
whether all the institutions of the old Church were as salutary as she
had formerly considered them to be.

Such was the state of Paolo's mind, on that day when sitting by the
window of his cell, as he saw Lydia entering the convent yard. He felt
at once certain that she had come to see him again. The trembling doe
which he would spare, came of its own accord within reach of his
weapons. He must see her, speak to her, kiss her ... Quickly he seized
his hat, and hurried forth