I was born at the little town of Frosinone, which lies at the skirts of the Abruzzi. My father had made a little property in trade, and gave me some education, as he intended me for the church, but I had kept gay company too much to relish1 the cowl, so I grew up a loiterer about the place. I was a heedless fellow, a little quarrelsome on occasions, but good-humored in the main, so I made my way very well for a time, until I fell in love. There lived in our town a surveyor, or land bailiff, of the prince’s who had a young daughter, a beautiful girl of sixteen. She was looked upon as something better than the common run of our townsfolk, and kept almost entirely2 at home. I saw her occasionally, and became madly in love with her, she looked so fresh and tender, and so different to the sunburnt females to whom I had been accustomed.
As my father kept me in money, I always dressed well, and took all Opportunities of showing myself to advantage in the eyes of the little beauty. I used to see her at church; and as I could play a little upon the guitar, I gave her a tune3 sometimes under her window of an evening; and I tried to have interviews with her in her father’s vineyard, not far from the town, where she sometimes walked. She was evidently pleased with me, but she was young and shy, and her Father kept a strict eye upon her, and took alarm at my attentions, for he had a bad opinion of me, and looked for a better match for his daughter. I became furious at the difficulties thrown in my way, having been accustomed always to easy success among the women, being considered one of the smartest young fellows of the place.
Her father brought home a suitor for her; a rich farmer from a neighboring town. The wedding-day was appointed, and preparations were making. I got sight of her at her window, and I thought she looked sadly at me. I determined5 the match should not take place, cost what it might. I met her intended bridegroom in the market-place, and could not restrain the expression of my rage. A few hot words passed between us, when I drew my stiletto, and stabbed him to the heart. I fled to a neighboring church for refuge; and with a little money I obtained absolution; but I did not dare to venture from my asylum6.
At that time our captain was forming his troop. He had known me from boyhood, and hearing of my situation, came to me in secret, and made such offers that I agreed to enlist7 myself among his followers8. Indeed, I had more than once thought of taking to this mode of life, having known several brave fellows of the mountains, who used to spend their money freely among us youngsters of the town. I accordingly left my asylum late one night, repaired to the appointed place of meeting; took the oaths prescribed, and became one of the troop. We were for some time in a distant part of the mountains, and our wild adventurous9 kind of life hit my fancy wonderfully, and diverted my thoughts. At length they returned with all their violence to the recollection of Rosetta. The solitude11 in which I often found myself gave me time to brood over her image, and as I have kept watch at night over our sleeping camp in the mountains, my feelings have been roused almost to a fever.
At length we shifted our ground, and determined to make a descent upon the road between Terracina and Naples. In the course of our expedition, we passed a day or two in the woody mountains which rise above Frosinone. I cannot tell you how I felt when I looked down upon the place, and distinguished12 the residence of Rosetta. I determined to have an interview with her; but to what purpose? I could not expect that she would quit her home, and accompany me in my hazardous13 life among the mountains. She had been brought up too tenderly for that; and when I looked upon the women who were associated with some of our troop, I could not have borne the thoughts of her being their companion. All return to my former life was likewise hopeless; for a price was set upon my head. Still I determined to see her; the very hazard and fruitlessness of the thing made me furious to accomplish it.
It is about three weeks since I persuaded our captain to draw down to the vicinity of Frosinone, in hopes of entrapping14 some of its principal inhabitants, and compelling them to a ransom15. We were lying in ambush16 towards evening, not far from the vineyard of Rosetta’s father. I stole quietly from my companions, and drew near to reconnoitre the place of her frequent walks.
How my heart beat when, among the vines, I beheld17 the gleaming of a white dress! I knew it must be Rosetta’s; it being rare for any female of the place to dress in white. I advanced secretly and without noise, until putting aside the vines, I stood suddenly before her. She uttered a piercing shriek18, but I seized her in my arms, put my hand upon her mouth and conjured19 her to be silent. I poured out all the frenzy20 of my passion; offered to renounce21 my mode of life, to put my fate in her hands, to fly with her where we might live in safety together. All that I could say, or do, would not pacify22 her. Instead of love, horror and affright seemed to have taken possession of her breast.—She struggled partly from my grasp, and filled the air with her cries. In an instant the captain and the rest of my companions were around us. I would have given anything at that moment had she been safe out of our hands, and in her father’s house. It was too late. The captain pronounced her a prize, and ordered that she should be borne to the mountains. I represented to him that she was my prize, that I had a previous claim to her; and I mentioned my former attachment23. He sneered24 bitterly in reply; observed that brigands25 had no business with village intrigues27, and that, according to the laws of the troop, all spoils of the kind were determined by lot. Love and jealousy28 were raging in my heart, but I had to choose between obedience29 and death. I surrendered her to the captain, and we made for the mountains.
She was overcome by affright, and her steps were so feeble and faltering30, and it was necessary to support her. I could not endure the idea that my comrades should touch her, and assuming a forced tranquillity31, begged that she might be confided32 to me, as one to whom she was more accustomed. The captain regarded me for a moment with a searching look, but I bore it without flinching33, and he consented, I took her in my arms: she was almost senseless. Her head rested on my shoulder, her mouth was near to mine. I felt her breath on my face, and it seemed to fan the flame which devoured34 me. Oh, God! to have this glowing treasure in my arms, and yet to think it was not mine!
We arrived at the foot of the mountain. I ascended35 it with difficulty, particularly where the woods were thick; but I would not relinquish36 my delicious burthen. I reflected with rage, however, that I must soon do so. The thoughts that so delicate a creature must be abandoned to my rude companions, maddened me. I felt tempted37, the stiletto in my hand, to cut my way through them all, and bear her off in triumph. I scarcely conceived the idea, before I saw its rashness; but my brain was fevered with the thought that any but myself should enjoy her charms. I endeavored to outstrip38 my companions by the quickness of my movements; and to get a little distance ahead, in case any favorable opportunity of escape should present. Vain effort! The voice of the captain suddenly ordered a halt. I trembled, but had to obey. The poor girl partly opened a languid eye, but was without strength or motion. I laid her upon the grass. The captain darted39 on me a terrible look of suspicion, and ordered me to scour40 the woods with my companions, in search of some shepherd who might be sent to her father’s to demand a ransom.
I saw at once the peril42. To resist with violence was certain death; but to leave her alone, in the power of the captain!—I spoke43 out then with a fervor44 inspired by my passion and my despair. I reminded the captain that I was the first to seize her; that she was my prize, and that my previous attachment for her should make her sacred among my companions. I insisted, therefore, that he should pledge me his word to respect her; otherwise I should refuse obedience to his orders. His only reply was, to cock his carbine; and at the signal my comrades did the same. They laughed with cruelty at my impotent rage. What could I do? I felt the madness of resistance. I was menaced on all hands, and my companions obliged me to follow them. She remained alone with the chief—yes, alone and almost lifeless!—
Here the robber paused in his recital45, overpowered by his emotions. Great drops of sweat stood on his forehead; he panted rather than breathed; his brawny46 bosom47 rose and fell like the waves of a troubled sea. When he had become a little calm, he continued his recital.
I was not long in finding a shepherd, said he. I ran with the rapidity of a deer, eager, if possible, to get back before what I dreaded48 might take place. I had left my companions far behind, and I rejoined them before they had reached one-half the distance I had made. I hurried them back to the place where we had left the captain. As we approached, I beheld him seated by the side of Rosetta. His triumphant49 look, and the desolate50 condition of the unfortunate girl, left me no doubt of her fate. I know not how I restrained my fury.
It was with extreme difficulty, and by guiding her hand, that she was made to trace a few characters, requesting her father to send three hundred dollars as her ransom. The letter was despatched by the shepherd. When he was gone, the chief turned sternly to me: “You have set an example,” said he, “of mutiny and self-will, which if indulged would be ruinous to the troop. Had I treated you as our laws require, this bullet would have been driven through your brain. But you are an old friend; I have borne patiently with your fury and your folly51; I have even protected you from a foolish passion that would have unmanned you. As to this girl, the laws of our association must have their course.” So saying, he gave his commands, lots were drawn52, and the helpless girl was abandoned to the troop.
Here the robber paused again, panting with fury and it was some moments before he could resume his story.
Hell, said he, was raging in my heart. I beheld the impossibility of avenging53 myself, and I felt that, according to the articles in which we stood bound to one another, the captain was in the right. I rushed with frenzy from the place. I threw myself upon the earth; tore up the grass with my hands, and beat my head, and gnashed my teeth in agony and rage. When at length I returned, I beheld the wretched victim, pale, dishevelled; her dress torn and disordered. An emotion of pity for a moment subdued54 my fiercer feelings. I bore her to the foot of a tree, and leaned her gently against it. I took my gourd55, which was filled with wine, and applying it to her lips, endeavored to make her swallow a little. To what a condition was she recovered! She, whom I had once seen the pride of Frosinone, who but a short time before I had beheld sporting in her father’s vineyard, so fresh and beautiful and happy! Her teeth were clenched56; her eyes fixed57 on the ground; her form without motion, and in a state of absolute insensibility. I hung over her in an agony of recollection of all that she had been, and of anguish58 at what I now beheld her. I darted round a look of horror at my companions, who seemed like so many fiends exulting59 in the downfall of an angel, and I felt a horror at myself for being their accomplice60.
The captain, always suspicious, saw with his usual penetration61 what was passing within me, and ordered me to go upon the ridge62 of woods to keep a look-out upon the neighborhood and await the return of the shepherd. I obeyed, of course, stifling63 the fury that raged within me, though I felt for the moment that he was my most deadly foe64.
On my way, however, a ray of reflection came across my mind. I perceived that the captain was but following with strictness the terrible laws to which we had sworn fidelity65. That the passion by which I had been blinded might with justice have been fatal to me but for his forbearance; that he had penetrated66 my soul, and had taken precautions, by sending me out of the way, to prevent my committing any excess in my anger. From that instant I felt that I was capable of pardoning him.
Occupied with these thoughts, I arrived at the foot of the mountain. The country was solitary67 and secure; and in a short time I beheld the shepherd at a distance crossing the plain. I hastened to meet him. He had obtained nothing. He had found the father plunged68 in the deepest distress69. He had read the letter with violent emotion, and then calming himself with a sudden exertion70, he had replied coldly, “My daughter has been dishonored by those wretches71; let her be returned without ransom, or let her die!”
I shuddered72 at this reply. I knew, according to the laws of our troop, her death was inevitable73. Our oaths required it. I felt, nevertheless, that, not having been able to have her to myself, I could become her executioner!
The robber again paused with agitation74. I sat musing75 upon his last Frightful76 words, which proved to what excess the passions may be carried when escaped from all moral restraint. There was a horrible verity77 in this story that reminded me of some of the tragic78 fictions of Danté.
We now came to a fatal moment, resumed the bandit. After the report of the shepherd, I returned with him, and the chieftain received from his lips the refusal of the father. At a signal, which we all understood, we followed him some distance from the victim. He there pronounced her sentence of death. Every one stood ready to execute his order; but I interfered79. I observed that there was something due to pity, as well as to justice. That I was as ready as any one to approve the implacable law which was to serve as a warning to all those who hesitated to pay the ransoms80 demanded for our prisoners, but that, though the sacrifice was proper, it ought to be made without cruelty. The night is approaching, continued I; she will soon be wrapped in sleep; let her then be despatched. All that I now claim on the score of former fondness for her is, let me strike the blow. I will do it as surely, but more tenderly than another.
Several raised their voices against my proposition, but the captain Imposed silence on them. He told me I might conduct her into a thicket81 at some distance, and he relied upon my promise.
I hastened to seize my prey82. There was a forlorn kind of triumph at having at length become her exclusive possessor. I bore her off into the thickness of the forest. She remained in the same state of insensibility and stupor83. I was thankful that she did not recollect10 me; for had she once murmured my name, I should have been overcome. She slept at length in the arms of him who was to poniard her. Many were the conflicts I underwent before I could bring myself to strike the blow. My heart had become sore by the recent conflicts it had undergone, and I dreaded lest, by procrastination85, some other should become her executioner. When her repose86 had continued for some time, I separated myself gently from her, that I might not disturb her sleep, and seizing suddenly my poniard, plunged it into her bosom. A painful and concentrated murmur84, but without any convulsive movement, accompanied her last sigh. So perished this unfortunate.
He ceased to speak. I sat horror-struck, covering my face with my hands, seeking, as it were, to hide from myself the frightful images he had presented to my mind. I was roused from this silence by the voice of the captain. “You sleep,” said he, “and it is time to be off. Come, we must abandon this height, as night is setting in, and the messenger is not returned. I will post some one on the mountain edge, to conduct him to the place where we shall pass the night.”
This was no agreeable news to me. I was sick at heart with the dismal87 story I had heard. I was harassed88 and fatigued89, and the sight of the banditti began to grow insupportable to me.
The captain assembled his comrades. We rapidly descended91 the forest which we had mounted with so much difficulty in the morning, and soon arrived in what appeared to be a frequented road. The robbers proceeded with great caution, carrying their guns cocked, and looking on every side with wary92 and suspicious eyes. They were apprehensive93 of encountering the civic94 patrole. We left Rocca Priori behind us. There was a fountain near by, and as I was excessively thirsty, I begged permission to stop and drink. The captain himself went, and brought me water in his hat. We pursued our route, when, at the extremity95 of an alley96 which crossed the road, I perceived a female on horseback, dressed in white. She was alone. I recollected97 the fate of the poor girl in the story, and trembled for her safety.
One of the brigands saw her at the same instant, and plunging98 into the bushes, he ran precipitately99 in the direction towards her. Stopping on the border of the alley, he put one knee to the ground, presented his carbine ready for menace, or to shoot her horse if she attempted to fly, and in this way awaited her approach. I kept my eyes fixed on her with intense anxiety. I felt tempted to shout, and warn her of her danger, though my own destruction would have been the consequence. It was awful to see this tiger crouching100 ready for a bound, and the poor innocent victim wandering unconsciously near him. Nothing but a mere101 chance could save her. To my joy, the chance turned in her favor. She seemed almost accidentally to take an opposite path,............