THE prisoners who had been condemned before us had already set out for
Lubiana and Spielberg, accompanied by a commissary of police. He was now
expected back, in order to conduct us to our destination; but the
interval of a month elapsed.
My time was chiefly spent in talking, and listening to the conversation
of others, in order to distract my attention. Maroncelli read me some of
his literary productions, and in turn, I read him mine. One evening I
read from the window my play of _Ester d’Engaddi_, to Canova, Rezia, and
Armari; and the following evening, the _Iginia d’Asti_. During the
night, however, I grew irritable and wretched, and was unable to sleep.
I both desired and feared to learn in what manner the tidings of my
calamity had been received by my family.
At length I got a letter from my father, and was grieved to find, from
the date, that my last to him had not been sent, as I had requested of
the Inquisitor, immediately! Thus my unhappy father, while flattering
himself that I should be set at liberty, happening to take up the Milan
Gazette, read the horrid sentence which I had just received upon the
scaffold. He himself acquainted me with this fact, and left me to infer
what his feelings must have been on meeting thus suddenly with the sad
news. I cannot express the contempt and anger I felt on learning that my
letter had been kept back; and how deeply I felt for all my poor unhappy
family. There was doubtless no malice in this delay, but I looked upon
it as a refinement of the most atrocious barbarity; an eager, infernal
desire to see the iron enter, as it were, the very soul of my beloved and
innocent relatives. I felt, indeed, as if I could have delighted to shed
a sea of blood, could I only punish this flagrant and premeditated
inhumanity.
Now that I judge calmly, I find it very improbable. The delay,
doubtless, was simply owing to inadvertency on the part of subordinate
agents. Enraged as I was, I heard with still more excited feelings that
my companions were about to celebrate Easter week ere their departure.
As for me, I considered it wholly impossible, inasmuch as I felt not the
least disposition towards forgiveness. Should I be guilty of such a
scandal!