lamed with jewels and cloth of gold. In every part I caused
to be entwined the initials of Juliet and her Guido. My present found
favor in hers and in her father's eyes.

Still, to return a proclaimed spendthrift, the mark of impertinent
wonder, perhaps of scorn, and to encounter singly the reproaches or
taunts of my fellow-citizens, was no alluring prospect. As a shield
between me and censure, I invited some few of the most reckless of my
comrades to accompany me; thus I went armed against the world, hiding a
rankling feeling, half fear and half penitence, by bravado and an
insolent display of satisfied vanity.

I arrived in Genoa. I trod the pavement of my ancestral palace. My proud
step was no interpreter of my heart, for I deeply felt that, though
surrounded by every luxury, I was a beggar. The first step I took in
claiming Juliet must widely declare me such. I read contempt or pity in
the looks of all. I fancied, so apt is conscience to imagine what it
deserves, that rich and poor, young and old, all regarded me with
derision. Torella came not near me. No wonder that my second father
should expect a son's deference from me in waiting first on him. But,
galled and stung by a sense of my follies and demerit, I strove to throw
the blame on others. We kept nightly orgies in Palazzo Carega. To
sleepless, riotous nights, followed listless, supine mornings. At the
Ave Maria we showed our dainty persons in the streets, scoffing at the
sober citizens, casting insolent glances on the shrinking women. Juliet
was not among them--no, no; if she had been there, shame would have
driven me away, if love had not brought me to her feet.

I grew tired of this. Suddenly I paid the Marchese a visit. He was at
his villa, one among the many which deck the suburb of San Pietro
d'Arena. It was the month of May--a month of May in that garden of the
world--the blossoms of the fruit-trees were fading among thick, green
foliage; the vines were shooting forth; the ground strewed with the
fallen olive blooms; the firefly was in the myrtle hedge; heaven and
earth wore a mantle of surpassing beauty. Torella welcomed me kindly,
though seriously; and even his shade of displeasure soon wore away. Some
resemblance to my father--some look and tone of youthful ingenuousness,
lurking still in spite of my misdeeds, softened the good old man's
heart. He sent for his daughter, he presented me to her as her
betrothed. The chamber became hallowed by a holy