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"You know it?" repeated the old man.

"I know it."

"I likewise hated, I, who have reprimanded you for a thought, a

word. The man I hated, I killed."

"Yes, but it was a noble, one of those--"

"Silence!" interrupted the friar. "If that were justification,

believe you I should not have found it in thirty years? Ah! if I

could now make you experience the sentiment I have since had, and

that I now have for the man I hated! If I could I!-but God can.

May he do it! Hear me, Renzo. He is a better friend to you, than

you are to yourself; you have thought of revenge, but He has

power enough, pity enough, to prevent it; you know you have often

said that he can arrest the arm of the powerful; but learn, also,

that he can arrest that of the vindictive. And because you are

poor, because you are injured, can he not defend against you a

man created in his image? Will he suffer you to do all you wish?

No! but he can cast you off for ever; he can, for this sentiment

which animates you, embitter your whole life, since, whatever

happens to you, hold for certain, that all will be punishment

until you have pardoned, pardoned freely and for ever!"