CHAPTER XIV. The more to inflame his desire, it so happened that he found a letter of hers so well written, so modest, so full of tenderness, that when he had read it, he declared that he thought in her alone were united all the charms of beauty and good sense, which are dispersed and divided amongst the rest of her sex. DON QUIXOTE. ALTHOUGH Pudens's mind had been very much occupied by religion, it was not entirely to the exclusion of more earthly affections and sorrows. He was deterred, indeed, from making too active an inquiry after the retreat of Claudia, by the fear of his being the means of betraying the secret to those from whom he was most anxious to conceal it; but he could not banish her loved image from his bosom, nor could he banish the poignant anguish which the remembrance of her conduct never failed to excite. Had it not been for the balm which Christianity instilled into his wounded heart, he would probably have been driven to desperation; but the irritation of his feelings had subsided into a tranquil kind of melancholy, by no means unfavourable to the reception of religion. Claudia was even still more painfully affected. The apparent cruelty of her conduct towards her lover, and the convulsive struggle with some of her most ardent feelings, had seriously injured her health; and she gradually pined away, until her recovery was almost despaired of. It was quite evident that concealment was corroding away the very principles of vitality: and Pomponia saw that the consequences would certainly be fatal, unless some remedy was speedily found. She resolved, therefore, to mention the circumstance to one of the elders of the church, and to request his advice on the subject. The elder, on being consulted, very properly chided her severely for her cowardice, and desired her to absolve Claudia from the promise, which she had given her of not disclosing to Pudens the change which had taken place in her religious views and he : further instructed her to explain to her that marriage with an unbeliever was not absolutely forbidden, but that it was esteemed dangerous, as it exposed the converts to Christianity to peculiar temptations. Pomponia undertook to convey the purport of this communication to Claudia: but whether it was, that the extreme delicacy of the affair required some little preparation, or that she was deterred by the fear of consequences suggested by her natural timidity, she procrastinated from day to day, until her protégée, feeling her health gradually declining, anticipated her purpose, and requested her permission to write to Pudens, and to apprise him of her adoption of Christianity. "I am," said she, "in a state when mortal passion has, comparatively speaking, but small influence. That influence has been diminishing daily; and I do not apprehend that it will be long before I am released from it altogether by death. As, however, that diminishes, my desire of writing to Pudens increases. It is not that I wish to renew an attachment, which it seems to be the will of heaven to dissolve; but it is to justify my seeming hard-hearted ness, and to clear my memory from that stain of fickleness which must otherwise rest upon it for ever." Her request was, of course, immediately conceded; and Pomponia told her that she had consulted with some of the elders of the church as to the propriety of intermarriage with unbelievers, and that they had stated that there was no divine prohibition: she also added that, for her own opinion, she thought that if either party became a proselyte to the religion of the other, it would probably be Pudens, and not herself; and she then began to enlarge on the beneficial consequences which might possibly ensue in such a case. Claudia thanked her, smiling faintly, while the tears trembled in her beautiful eyes, but replied that it had cost her too much to come to a resolution, for her to alter it. Having, however, obtained Pomponia's permission, she retired to her private triclinium; and, when the dimming drops, which chased each other in rapid succession down her pale cheeks, would allow her, relieved her overcharged heart by writing the following let ter: Claudia to Pudens. Illness, and other circumstances have prevented my writing before, as I would otherwise gladly have done. I would that it were now in my power to make amends for this delay by the pleasure which this letter might afford; but, alas! much as I regret the delay, I still more regret that I can now find no topic of pleasure. Oh, Pudens! if I am not entirely forgotten, in what odious characters must your imagination pourtray me ! Ungrateful, and fickle, and false, indeed, my conduct must appear, and the more base as exercised towards as fond and faithful a lover as ever woman had! I tremble when I think what a monster you must deem me! Yet, ungrateful as I must seem, I am not insensible to the thousand kindnesses you have shown me. Ah, no! I do not forget our lessons under the willow tree; I do not forget our sunset conversations in Lucan's grotto; nor do I forget our faith plighted at Virgil's tomb. You have watched over me at my studies like a father; you have accompanied me in my amusements like a brother,; and, oh! in a still dearer character, |