Page:Julian Niemcewicz - Notes of my Captivity in Russia.djvu/211

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PRISON LIFE.
183

path which was nearly a quarter of an inch below the level of the floor. The sight of this must, I think, have caused my successor to tremble.

During fine summer nights, I sat at the window, and there, with my head leaning upon the bars, and my eyes fixed upon a part of the firmament, which was visible between the prison and the walls of the fortress, I remained whole hours lost in the sweetest reveries; and whilst my body was enchained in that dismal prison, my thought took its flight, and wandered from one end of the universe to the other. I saw the places so dear to my memory, Italy, that country which I had lately left to join the army, the tombs, the majestic ruins of Rome, the embalmed villas of Florence, that beautiful city, where, amidst the master-pieces of art, I passed days without cloud, days pure as the sky of that happy clime. At another time, afflicting recollections snatched me from these sweet illusions: my country, whose prosperity had, during many years, been the only object of my labours and exertions, now torn and