_The Answer_
_Naples_
I can never sufficiently acknowledge the friendship that appears in
every line of your obliging epistles. Even where your attachment is
rouzed without a sufficient cause, it is only upon that account the more
conspicuous.
I took the liberty, my dear count, immediately after receiving your
last, to come to an explanation with San Severino. I mentioned to him
the circumstances in your letter, as affairs that had been casually
hinted to me. I told him, that I was persuaded he would excuse my
freedom, as I was certain there was some misinformation, and I could not
omit the opportunity of putting it in his power to justify himself. The
marquis expressed the utmost astonishment, and vowed by all that was
sacred, that he was innocent of the most important part of the charge.
He told me, that it was his ill fortune, and he supposed he was not
singular, to have enemies, that made it their business to misrepresent
every circumstance of his conduct. He had been calumniated, cruelly
calumniated, and could he discover the author of the aspersion, he would
vindicate his honour with his sword. In fine, he explained the whole
business in such a manner, as, though I could not entirely approve, yet
evinced it to be by no means subversive of the general amiableness of
his character. How deplorable is the situation in which we are placed,
when even the generous and candid temper of my St. Julian, can be
induced to think of a young nobleman in a light he does not deserve, and
to impute to him basenesses from which his heart is free!
Soon after this interview I was introduced by my new friend into a
society of a more mixed and equivocal kind than I had yet seen. Do not
however impute to the marquis a surprize of which he was not guilty. He
fairly stated to me of what persons the company was to be composed; and
idle curiosity, and perhaps a particular gaiety of humour, under the
influence of which I then was, induced me to accept of his invitation.
If I did wrong, my dear count, blame me, and blame me without reserve.
But if I may judge from the disposition in which I left this house, I
only derived a new reinforcement to those resolutions, with which your
conversation and example first inspired me.
It was in the evening, after the opera. The company was composed of
several of our young nobility, and an equal number of female performers
and other ladies of the same reputation. They almost immediately broke
into _tête-à-têtes_, and of consequence one of the ladies addressed
herself particularly to me. The vulgar familiarity of her manners,
and the undisguised libidinousness of her conversation, I must own,
disgusted me. Though I do not pretend to be devoid of the passions
incident to my age, I was not at all pleased with the addresses of this
female. As my companions were more active in the choice of an associate,
it may perhaps be only candid to own, that she was not the most pleasing
in the circle. The consciousness of the eyes of the whole party
embarrassed me. And the aukward attempts I made to detach myself from
my enamorata, as they proved unsuccessful, so they served to excite a
general smile. San Severino however presently perceived my situation,
and observing that I was by no means satisfied with my fortune, he with
the utmost politeness broke away from the company, and attended me home.
How is it my dear friend that vice, whose property it should seem to
be, to hesitate and to tremble, should be able to assume this air of
confidence and composure? How is it that innocence, that surely should
always triumph, is thus liable to all the confusion and perplexity of
guilt? Why is virtue chosen, but because she is the parent of honour,
because she enables a man to look in the face the aspersions of calumny,
and to remain firm and undejected, amidst whatever fortune has of
adverse and capricious? And are these advantages merely imaginary? Are
composure and self-approbation common to the upright and the wicked? Or
do those who are most hardened, really possess the superiority; and can
conscious guilt bid defiance to shame, while rectitude is continually
liable to hide her head in confusion?