Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 148: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘ JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. saved him from ruin, disgrace, and a premature death. My uncle sent me to England to take a situation in an Italian mercantile firm in London; and there I remained a couple of years, during which period I rendered myself familiar with the language of your native country. One day I re- ceived intelligence that my uncle was dead, and that I was the heir of his property. Hastening back to Italy, I arrived at Civita Vecchia, where my uncle had dwelt, and took possession of the for- tune which I had inherited. Had I kept it all, I should haye been exceedingly rich: but I lost no time in availing myself of the opportunity to rescue my father’s name from obloquy and reproach. I assembled all his creditors, and paid them their due to the uttermost farthing,—together with interest for the time that the liabilities had been standing. This outlay was large; and I thussuddenly reduced myself from a state of opulence to that mere com- petency which I now possess.” * Ob, but what admirable conduct on your part !” I exclaimed, seizing Avellino’s hand and pressing it with enthusiastic effusion. “Tt was only the performance of a duty,” mildly answered Francesco, though with a look he ex- pressed his gratitude for the approval I had just conveyed. ‘I remained but a few weeks at Civita Vecchia,” he continued: “and removing to Rome, took up my residence in this house. I soon formed acquaintances—soon made friends—and was intro- duced into the best society. Is it surprising that I did not proclaim myself to be the son of the de- ceased merchant of Civita Vecchia? Yet heaven knows it was not through any false pride that I forbore from the mention of the circumstance: it was simply diffidence on my part—or rather it was a desire to ayoid announcing a fact which would ‘have been tantamount to a boast of whatsoever honourable and good there might have been in the action which [I had performed in respect to that deceased parent’s liabilities. These were my mo- tives for keeping the matter a secret—or rather for abstaining from making a parade of the incidents I have been relating to you. Thus, as time wore on, and no one had ever thought of inquiring rela- tive to my parentage or to the origin of the com- petency which I possess, I found myself rapidly increasing the circle of my friends until the doors of all the first houses in Rome were open for my admission. Amongst the families with whom I thus became acquainted, was that of the Count of Tivoli. I am now speaking of exactly. two years ago: at that period the Viscount of Tivoli was eighteen—and the Count’s daughter Antonia was sixteen.” Francesco Avellino became deeply agitated as he thus mentioned Antonia’s name—a name which I now heard for the first time; and I longed to ask whether the young lady yet lived ?—=but I thought I kad better restrain my curiosity and suffer my companion to pursue his narrative in his own way. It was however some minutes before he could so far conquer his emotions as to be enabled to resume the thread of his history ; and before he did so he took my hand, and pressed it, at the same time bending upon me a look of deep pathetic meaning, as much as to implore me to make allowances for whatsoever weakness he might thus display. “Yes,” he continued, “exactly two years have passed since IE was first introduced to the Tivoli 135 palace. The Count received me with an urbane courtesy: for if was a nobleman of hich rank who presented me on the occasion. The Count had not then that somewhat frigid seriousness of look and manner which, as I learnt, has of late marked him; and of all the Roman aristocracy no one was perhaps more affable or more hospitable in doing the honours of his dwelling than his lordship. The Viscount was what may be termed a preco- cious boy—vain, self-sufficient, and eonceited—yet having borrowed by reflection, or having caucht as it were just a sufficiency of his father’s patrician dignity, to save himself from being thoroughly contemptible. I know not how it was, but I per- ceived at a glance that the Viscount entertained for me an aversion on the very first evening of our acquaintance: he looked upon me as if I were one who was eclipsing him in respect to the degree of attention received from the gay assemblage generally—though heaven knows that [I never obtrusively thrust myself forward to court special notice or to become a prominent character in the scene. And now I must speak of Antonia. To her also was I for the first time presented on that particular evening of which I am speaking; and not to feel at once impressed with her ravishing beauty, would have been to prove unsusceptible of all that was best calculated to charm and to fasci- nate. You have never seen her, my dear Wilmot ; and I dare not trust myself to a description of the style of her loveliness. I feel that if I were to enter upon such verbal delineation, the power of language would be insufficient to do justice to the subject, and I should be overwhelmed likewise by my emotions. Let it suffice therefore for you to learn that this charming creature of sixteen at once became the object of feelings on my part which I had never known before. If you ask me whether f loved her at first sight, I think that my response ought to be given in the affirmative: a spell appeared to affix itself upon my heart—a soft ineffable influence crept deliciously into my soul—her voice was the sweetest music ever wafted to my ears—her look seemed to open to my con- templation a paradise of feeling the existence of which in this world I had never suspected. Oh! if in consequence of the fall of our first parents, love were the lost Eden of the soul, heaven gave it back again to a human heart at length—and that heart was mine! Weeks passed away; and I was a frequent visitor at the Tivoli palace. The Count of Livorno was at the time staying at Rome: he likewise was a constant visitor there; and it was at that manion I formed his acquaint- ance. I almost blush to confess that when I be- held him so frequently within the walls of the Tivoli palace, I trembled lest he likewise should have surrendered up his heart at the shrine of love, and that Antonia was the goddess of his worship: but nevertheless I vowed that if it were so, no selfish feeling of jealousy should on my part chill that friendship which was rapidly springing up between the Count of Livorno and myself. However, in the course of time I was convinced that in the Grand Duke of Tuscany’s nephew I possessed a sincere friend but no rival; and I was equally certain that I was not an object of indif- fererfce to the beautiful Antonia. You are already aware that I have a taste for painting ; and the Count of Tivoli is a great admirer of the fine arts. OOO) SS (c@)