Indeed,
my friends, I am in every alternative unfortunate. To defend myself I
must reflect upon the dead. I will not make a defence, but tell my story
plainly.
"My father was a man of deeds--a kind, rude business man. He loved me
and I worshipped him, though our apposite tempers frequently brought us
in conflict. Neither of us knew how to curb the other or be curbed in
turn. Above all things I learned to fear my father's will; it was
invincible.
"My wife and I grew up in my widower father's family, and fell in love,
and had an understanding that at a proper season we would marry. That
season could not be long postponed when Agnes's increasing beauty and my
ardor kept pace together. I sought an occasion to break the secret to my
father, and his reception of it filled me with terror. 'Marry Agnes!'
he replied. 'You have no right to her. Your mother left her to me. I
may marry her myself.'
"If he had never formed this design before it was now pursued with his
well-known tireless energy. The suggestion needed no other encouragement
than her beauty, ever present to inflame us both. Her household habits
and society were to his liking; he offered me everything but that which
embraced all to me. 'Go to Europe!' he said. 'Take a wife where you
will; but Agnes you shall not have.
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