One last soliloquy,
and then like the pagliacco I can say with a sigh, _"La commedia
e finita_--the play is played out," and the rest will be silence.
At all events I will tell my own story. My "History of
Renaissance Morals" can lie in its corner and rot, whilst I shall
concern myself with a far more vital theme--The Morals of Marcus
Ordeyne. The rough entries in my diary have been a habit of many
futile years; but they have never sufficed for self-expression.
I have not needed it till now. But now, with Judith and Carlotta
gone from me, my one friend, Pasquale, cut for ever from my life,
even the sympathetic Polyphemus driven into eternity by my
murderous hand, I feel the irresistible craving to express myself
fully and finally for the first and last time of my life. It
will be my swan song. What becomes of it afterwards I care not.
And when the last word is written, I shall go to the Pinacoteca
and stand again before the Morone fresco, and if the _Miseratrix
Virginum Regina_ still simpers at me, I shall take it as a sign
and a token.
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