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GENTLENESS IS POWER. 143 
kissed his terrible face, an action then performed for the first time. 
The fetters of his stubborn nature now fell off, and with a voice be- 
traying a deep-seated sorrow, he began :— 
“ Never since I was a child, Caranza, and played at the feet of my 
mother, have I known till now real happiness, or the beauty of truth 
and sincerity. If I may judge by my present sensations, our natures 
were not originally very diverse ; but different indeed have been the 
courses pursued in our education; and I fear mine has been vicious 
in every sense. Hitherto I have acknowledged nothing pleasurable 
but the sense of unrestrained power, nothing glorious but absolute 
dominion, and nothing beautiful but the unconditional subserviency 
of both body and mind, in those unhappy people over whom it was 
their misfortune that I should be placed. I believe I have committed 
many unjust actions—many cruel ones. Amid all my violence and 
injustice, however, you cannot lay to my charge the one of having, in 
a single instance, deceived you—I never told youa tin. I take no 
merit to myself for this solitary virtue in my character, as regards 
yourself, for I was too proud to stoop to the act, knowing my power 
over you to be paramount; neither have I considered it always a vir- 
tue, because I never perceived that my tutor was over scrupulous 
upon that point with others—with myself I believe he has been uni- 
formly sincere ; for, indeed, he is acquainted with my nature, that it 
were ill for him to deceive me. I say, then, as I have never, amid 
all my injustice, insulted you with a lie, that it is my intention to 
amend your station for the future in my kingdom, and that my own 
conduct shall, if I can compass the attempt, undergo a reformation 
towards my people. I know you to be discerning, I have proved you 
to be steadfast, and unvaryingly kind and good ; you must, therefore, 
have perceived, from the first days of our union, that these points in 
your character commanded my respect and forbearance ; and well for 
us both that you possessed them.” 
“ Kind Aborzuf!” said the delighted Caranza—(how little did she 
ever dream of being permitted to use such an epithet !)—“ you may 
judge of my feelings at this moment from the enviable state of your 
own. It were idle to deny that the latter months of my life have 
been most unhappy, and the more so because I had almost begun to 
fear that the last resource of the unguilty sufferer—nore—was dying 
within me. In any other frame of mind than that in which I so hap- 
pily find you, the above complaint should never have passed these lips, 
but you are now worthy to hear such a confession, because you can 
better appreciate my heart, and because I would fain indulge a _par- 
