My dear friend,
Travelling through the various countries of Europe, and expanding your
philosophical mind to embrace the interests of mankind, you still are
so obliging as to take the same concern in the transactions of your
youthful friend as ever. I shall therefore confine myself in the letter
which I now steal the leisure to write, to the relation of those events,
of which you are probably as yet uninformed. If I were to give scope to
the feelings of my heart, with what, alas, should I present you but a
circle of repetitions, which, however important they may appear to
me, could not but be dull and tedious to any person less immediately
interested?
As I pursued with greater minuteness the enquiries I had begun before
you quitted the kingdom of the two Sicilies, I found the arguments still
increasing upon me, which tended to persuade me of the innocence of
Matilda. Oh, my friend, what a letter did I address to her in the height
of my frenzy and despair? Every word spoke daggers, and that in a moment
when the tragical event of which I was the author, must naturally have
overwhelmed her with astonishment and agony. Yes, Hippolito, this action
must remain an eternal blot upon my character. Years of penitence could
not efface it, floods of tears could not wash it away.
But before I had satisfied my curiosity in this pursuit, the time
approached in which it was necessary for me to take a public trial at
Naples. This scene was to me a solemn one. The blood of my friend sat
heavy at my heart. It is true no provocation could have been more
complicated than that I had received. Take it from me, Hippolito, as my
most mature and serious determination, that a Gothic revenge is beneath
the dignity of a man. It did not become me, who had aimed at the
character of unaccommodating virtue, to appear in defence of an action
that my heart disallowed. To stand forward before the delegated power of
my country with the stain of blood upon me, was not a scene for a man of
sensibility to act in. But the decision of my judges was more indulgent
than the verdict of my own mind.
One of the persons who was most conspicuous upon this occasion, was the
marquis of San Severino. Hippolito, it is true, I have been hurried into
many actions that have caused me the severest regret. But I would not
for ten thousand worlds have that load of guilt upon my mind, that this
man has to answer for. And yet he bore his head aloft. He was placid and
serene. He was even disengaged and gay. He talked in as round a tone,
of honour and integrity, of veracity and virtue, as if his life were
spotless, and his heart immaculate. The circumstances however that
came out in the progress of the affair, were in the highest degree
disadvantageous to him. The general indignation and hatred seemed
gradually to swell against him, like the expansive surges of the ocean.
A murmur of disapprobation was heard from every side, proceeded from
every mouth. Even this accomplished villain at length hung his head.
When the court was dissolved, he was encountered with hisses and scorn
from the very lowest of the people. It was only by the most decisive
exertions of the guards of the palace, that he was saved from being torn
to pieces by the fury of the populace.
You will be surprized to perceive that this letter is dated at the
residence of my fathers. Fourteen days ago I was summoned hither by the
particular request of my brother, who had been seized with a violent
epidemical distemper. It was extremely sudden in its operation, and
before I arrived he was no more. He had confessed however to one of the
friends of our house, before he expired, that he had forged the will of
my father, instigated by the surprize and disappointment he had felt,
when he understood that that father, whom he had employed so many
unjustifiable means to prepossess, had left his whole estate, exclusive
of a very small annuity, to his eldest son. Since I have been here, I
have been much employed in arranging the affairs of the family, which,
from the irregular and extemporary manner in which my brother lived, I
found in considerable disorder.