1829.] the late Mr. Hermann Ahager. 151 



long streets of the Normalni, which, just at this period, happened to be 

 less crowded tlian usual. Hortense, I'.owever, was too deeply depressed 

 to be influenced by external objects : lier thoughts were abroad over the 

 waters with her father and her home, at Terracina ; once or twice she 

 turned imploringly towards me, as if to apologize for her unavoidable 

 gloom ; and there was such agony — such remorse — such utter abandon- 

 ment of all hope and happiness in her looks, that it cut me to the heart 

 to see her. That instant, and those looks — so lovely in their supplication, 

 so strong in their weakness — decided my fate. The long-concealed pas- 

 sion, which, unknown to myself, I had cherished from the first moment 

 I saAv Hortense, burst forth : I spoke I know not what — I promised I 

 know not what — I made vows of eternal fidelity : the words of love — of 

 passion — of madness — of guilty, inciu'able madness — came biu'sting forth, 

 like flames, from my heart ; and, trembling in every limb — alive in every 

 nerve — fire in my brain, and fever in my blood — I stood to hear my 

 doom. That doom was at once and irrevocably pronounced. Insulted 

 modejsty brought back all her wonted energy to Hortense : she fiung 

 aside her raven ringlets, as if to clear her brow of some impure idea ; and 

 then, turning on me a glance — keen, searching in its expression, and lit 

 up with all the stern dignity of the high-born Roman matron — waved 

 me from her side, and walked on alone and silent. 



The Avhole of that night — that memorable night — I passed in a state 

 little short of distraction. I could not but feel that I had forfeited the 

 esteem of the only woman in whom I had ever felt an interest : I 

 thought, too, of the circumstances under which I had offered her such 

 insult — of her forlorn, isolated condition ; of her unavoidable estrange- 

 ment from that society which she was born to bless and adorn ; and, 

 above all, of her intense agony of spirit — an agony which, so far from 

 calling forth my reverence, had, through my pity, assailed my passions. 

 But, with regard to Herwaldsen — oh ! how I hated him ! What was 

 there, in his mind or manner, that should so long have blinded my judg- 

 ment .'' His candour was a lie — his taste a cheat — his friendship, hypo- 

 crisy — his gentleness, the glozing subtlety of the arch-fiend ! 



For upwards of five days I continued in this bewildered state, never 

 quitting home till nightfall, when, rapt up in my cloak, I would steal 

 away to the cottage, deriving some little comfort from the idea that I 

 was breathing the same air with Hortense, and that but a few yards lay 

 between us. One night, I remember, I was rambling in this direction, 

 when the more than usual beauty of the landscape, on which a full- 

 grown virgin moon lay asleep and naked, induced me to pause below tlie 

 IMount of Moses, and think with still stronger emotion of her Avho alone 

 could share my feelings. It was, indeed, a lovely hour ! Above — around 

 — beneath me, all was hushed as death, except when, now and then, the 

 far-off voices of the Baltic fishermen came softened on the ear ; or the 

 waters of the JMaelar, just roused by the passing breeze from their repose, 

 woke for an instant, rippled towards the shores of the Sodermalm, and 

 then again sank lieavily to rest. But though the scene was thus impres- 

 sive in its character ; though the spacious and romantic city, whose 

 tapering church-spires pointed upwards, like guardian spirits, to heaven- 

 though the vast and picturesque assemblage of vessels from all quar- 

 ters of the globe ; thougli tlie wild, uncouth precipice ; the remote 

 sky-topj)ed mountain ; the stilly moon-lit waters of the distant Baltic — 

 though these varied objects, as they rose in mingled beauty and gran- 

 deur on my eye, called torth my warmest admiration, still tlicve was but 



