in which love had cradled them, the clinging weight of destiny bent him
down; he was goaded, tortured, fiercely impatient of that worst of
miseries, the sense of remorse. This troubled state yielded by degrees, to
sullen animosity, and depression of spirits. His dependants, even his
equals, if in his present post he had any, were startled to find anger,
derision, and bitterness in one, before distinguished for suavity and
benevolence of manner. He transacted public business with distaste, and
hastened from it to the solitude which was at once his bane and relief. He
mounted a fiery horse, that which had borne him forward to victory in
Greece; he fatigued himself with deadening exercise, losing the pangs of a
troubled mind in animal sensation.

He slowly recovered himself; yet, at last, as one might from the effects of
poison, he lifted his head from above the vapours of fever and passion into
the still atmosphere of calm reflection. He meditated on what was best to
be done. He was first struck by the space of time that had elapsed, since
madness, rather than any reasonable impulse, had regulated his actions. A
month had gone by, and during that time he had not seen Evadne. Her power,
which was linked to few of the enduring emotions of his heart, had greatly
decayed. He was no longer her slave--no longer her lover: he would never
see her more, and by the completeness of his return, deserve the confidence
of Perdita.

Yet, as he thus determined, fancy conjured up the miserable abode of the
Greek girl. An abode, which from noble and lofty principle, she had refused
to exchange for one of greater luxury. He thought of the splendour of her
situation and appearance when he first knew her; he thought of her life at
Constantinople, attended by every circumstance of oriental magnificence; of
her present penury, her daily task of industry, her lorn state, her faded,
famine-struck cheek. Compassion swelled his breast; he would see her once