my heart, which burns with so fervent a fire, declares I could not, and murder
"Matilda paused.
"Would thou could say thou wert guilty, or even accessary to that," exclaimed Zastrozzi, his eye gleaming with disappointed ferocity. "Would Julia of Strobazzo's heart was reeking on my dagger!"
"Fervently do I join in that wish, my best Zastrozzi," returned Matilda: "but, alas! what avail wishes—what avail useless protestations of revenge, whilst Julia yet lives?—yet lives, perhaps, again to obtain Verezzi—to clasp him constant to her bosom—and perhaps—oh, horror! perhaps to
"Stung to madness by the picture which her fancy had portrayed, Matilda paused.
Her bosom heaved with throbbing palpitations; and, whilst describing the success of her rival, her warring soul shone apparent from her scintillating eyes.
Zastrozzi, meanwhile, stood collected in himself; and, scarcely heeding the violence of Matilda, awaited the issue of her speech.
He besought her to calm herself, nor, by those violent emotions, unfit herself for prosecuting the attainment of her fondest hope.
"Are you firm?" inquired Zastrozzi.
"Yes!"
"Are you resolved? Does fear, amid the other passions, shake your soul?"
"No, no—this heart knows not to fear—this breast knows not to shrink," exclaimed Matilda eagerly.
"Then be cool—be collected," returned Zastrozzi, "and thy purpose is effected."
Though little was in these words which might warrant hope, yet Matilda's susceptible soul, as Zastrozzi spoke, thrilled with anticipated delight.
"My maxim, therefore," said Zastrozzi, "through life has been, wherever I am, whatever passions shake