Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 283: what you’re looking at

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

278 BEAUTIFUL RIENZL «- “You scoff at their temples, signora. What does that mean?’ demanded my master. “‘T laughed scornfully. «« ‘Tt means that there isno God on my earth!’ I said. ‘God? Who is he? An essence—a myth? You are my God! I bow to but one divinity!’ ‘* You went away, and I laughed until my maid knelt at my feet, and implored me to be calm. I pictured how my passionate love would craze your young heart with joy when alone. | ‘<The next day a letter from you was brought to my silken pillow. It was not a lover’s frenzied prayer for pardon for your Aarshness ; 1t was a demand to know what creed I pro- essed. «* My creed was the shortest on earth; I was an infidel. I had always been one. I believe I was born without a soul. Gayly I told you so, but added that my heart was more to you than a thousand souls. What calmness—what lack of worldly wisdom you displayed! You came to me loaded with the gifts I had lavished on you—the love-tokens, the honors—and flung them back to me. ** ‘Henceforth, Guiseppe is bound no more to a woman without a God,’ you said. ‘“My passion rose. I demanded—threathened. You enowed no fear, but sternly silenced me. J to be threatened thus! ‘<T rose humiliated, overcome, terrified, and begged for- giveness, and you left me with my tears undried. Gemma Lancinetto was forsaken by the obscure stripling whom she had proudly worn next her heart. I met the curled lip, the vailed eye, the cynical smile when I ventured forth from my angry solitude. Those who before had worshiped my shadow shrugged their shoulders and crossed themselves. I was branded as ‘the woman without a soul,’ and was fabled a Xantippe. All shunned me, but the lowest and most sordid of my once countless throng of lovers. I found at the age of twenty-one that my life was blasted. I stood, as it were, unvailed before a hissing world, and it execrated me. ‘Then in my heart of hearts, I made my vendetta against Guiseppe Rienzi. Oh, it was bitter, deep, lasting! ‘Shall I detail my reckless life to you? No! You shall COMICOOO S (©)