most affectionate assiduity by the bedside of the unconscious Verezzi.
The physician declared that his patient's mind was yet in too irritable a state to permit him to see Matilda, but that he was convalescent.
One evening she sat by his bedside, and gazing upon the features of the sleeping Verezzi, felt unusual softness take possession of her soul—an indefinable and tumultuous emotion shook her bosom—her whole frame thrilled with rapturous ecstasy, and seizing the hand which lay motionless beside her, she imprinted on it a thousand burning kisses.
"Ah, Julia! Julia! is it you?" exclaimed Verezzi, as he raised his enfeebled frame; but perceiving his mistake, as he cast his eyes on Matilda, sank back, and fainted.
Matilda hastened with restoratives, and soon succeeded in recalling to life Verezzi's fleeted faculties.
CHAPTER VIII.
Art thou afraid
To be the same in thine own act and valour
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteemest the ornament of life,
Or live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting I dare not wait upon I would?—Macbeth.
For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
—Lay of the Last Minstrel.
The soul of Verezzi was filled with irresistible
disgust, as, recovering, he found himself in
Matilda's arms. His whole frame trembled
with chilly horror, and he could scarcely withhold
himself from again fainting. He fixed his eyes upon
the countenance—they met hers—an ardent fire, mingled
with a touching softness, filled their orbits.
