Free The Heir of Mondolfo by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Page A

situation, the father
and son, lord and vassal, oppressor and oppressed, the one was
continually ready to exert his power of inflicting evil, the other
perpetually on the alert to resist even the shadow of tyranny.
After the death of his mother, Ludovico's character greatly
changed.
    The smile that, as the sun, had then often irradiated his
countenance, now never shone; suspicion, irritability, and dogged
resolution, seemed his master-feelings. He dared his father to the
worst, endured that worst, and prevented from flying by his sacred
observance of his vow, nurtured all angry and even revengeful
feelings till the cup of wrath seemed ready to overflow. He was
loved by none, and loving none his good qualities expired, or slept
as if they would never more awaken.
    His father had intended him for the Church; and Ludovico, until
he was sixteen, wore the priestly garb. That period past, be cast
it aside, and appeared habited as a cavalier of those days, and in
short words told his parent that he refused to comply with his
wishes; that he should dedicate himself to arms and enterprise. All
that followed this dedaration--menace, imprisonment, and even
ignominy--he bore, but he continued firm; and the haughty Fernando
was obliged to submit his towering will to the firmer will of a
stripling. And now, for the first time, while rage seemed to burst
his heart, he felt to its highest degree the sentiment of hatred;
he expressed this passion-- words of contempt and boundless
detestation replied; and the bystanders feared that a personal
encounter would ensue. Once Fernando put his hand on his sword, and
the unarmed Ludovico drew in and collected himself, as if ready to
spring and seize the arm that might be uplifted against him.
    Fernando saw and dreaded the mad ferocity his son's eye
expressed. In all personal encounters of this kind the victory
rests not with the strong, but the most fearless. Fernando was not
ready to stake his own life, or even with his own hand to shed his
son's blood; Ludovico, not as aggressor, but in self-defense,
was careless of the consequences of an attack--he would resist to
the death; and this dauntless feeling gave him an ascendency his
father felt and could not forgive.
    From this time Fernando's conduct toward his son changed. He
no longer punished, imprisoned, or menaced him. This was usage for
a boy, but the Prince felt that they were man to man, and acted
accordingly. He was the gainer by the change; for he soon acquired
all the ascendency that experience, craft, and a court education,
must naturally give him over a hot-headed youth, who, nerved to
resist all personal violence, neither saw nor understood a more
covert mode of proceeding. Fernando hoped to drive his son to
desperation. He set spies over him, paid the tempters that were to
lead him to crime, and by a continued system of restraint and
miserable thwarting hoped to reduce him to such despair that he
would take refuge in any line of conduct that promised freedom from
so irksome and degrading a slavery. His observance of his vow saved
the youth; and this steadiness of purpose gave him time to read and
understand the motives of the tempters. He saw his father's
master-hand in all, and his heart sickened at the discovery.
    He had reached his eighteenth year. The treatment he had endured
and the constant exertion of fortitude and resolution had already
given him the appearance of manhood, He was tall, well made, and
athletic. His person and demeanor were more energetic than
graceful, and his manners were haughty and reserved. He had few
accomplishments, for his father had been at no pains for his
education; feats of horsemanship and arms made up the whole
catalogue. He hated books, as being a part of a priest's
insignia; he was averse to all occupation that brought bodily
repose with it. His complexion was dark--hardship had even rendered
it sallow; his eyes, once soft, now glared with fierceness; his
lips, formed to express tenderness, were now