zanoni-第39部分

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in　the　dark；　in　thy　presence；　my　soul　expands；　and　the　whole

world　seems　calm　with　a　celestial　noonday。　　Do　not　deny　to　me

that　presence。　　I　am　fatherless　and　ignorant　and　alone！〃



Zanoni　averted　his　face；　and；　after　a　moment's　silence；　replied

calmly；



〃Be　it　so。　　Sister；　I　will　visit　thee　again！〃





CHAPTER　3。II。



Gilding　pale　streams　with　heavenly　alchemy。

Shakespeare。



Who　so　happy　as　Viola　now！　　A　dark　load　was　lifted　from　her

heart：　　her　step　seemed　to　tread　on　air；　she　would　have　sung　for

very　delight　as　she　went　gayly　home。　　It　is　such　happiness　to　the

pure　to　love；but　oh；　such　more　than　happiness　to　believe　in　the

worth　of　the　one　beloved。　　Between　them　there　might　be　human

obstacles；wealth；　rank；　man's　little　world。　　But　there　was　no

longer　that　dark　gulf　which　the　imagination　recoils　to　dwell　on；

and　which　separates　forever　soul　from　soul。　　He　did　not　love　her

in　return。　　Love　her！　　But　did　she　ask　for　love？　　Did　she　herself

love？　　No；　or　she　would　never　have　been　at　once　so　humble　and　so

bold。　　How　merrily　the　ocean　murmured　in　her　ear；　how　radiant　an

aspect　the　commonest　passer…by　seemed　to　wear！　　She　gained　her

home；she　looked　upon　the　tree；　glancing；　with　fantastic

branches；　in　the　sun。　　〃Yes；　brother　mine！〃　she　said；　laughing　in

her　joy；　〃like　thee；　I　HAVE　struggled　to　the　light！〃



She　had　never　hitherto；　like　the　more　instructed　Daughters　of　the

North；　accustomed　herself　to　that　delicious　Confessional；　the

transfusion　of　thought　to　writing。　　Now；　suddenly；　her　heart　felt

an　impulse；　a　new…born　instinct；　that　bade　it　commune　with

itself；　bade　it　disentangle　its　web　of　golden　fancies；made　her

wish　to　look　upon　her　inmost　self　as　in　a　glass。　　Upsprung　from

the　embrace　of　Love　and　Soulthe　Eros　and　the　Psychetheir

beautiful　offspring；　Genius！　　She　blushed；　she　sighed；　she

trembled　as　she　wrote。　　And　from　the　fresh　world　that　she　had

built　for　herself；　she　was　awakened　to　prepare　for　the　glittering

stage。　　How　dull　became　the　music；　how　dim　the　scene；　so

exquisite　and　so　bright　of　old。　　Stage；　thou　art　the　Fairy　Land

to　the　vision　of　the　worldly。　　Fancy；　whose　music　is　not　heard　by

men；　whose　scenes　shift　not　by　mortal　hand；　as　the　stage　to　the

present　world；　art　thou　to　the　future　and　the　past！





CHAPTER　3。III。



In　faith；　I　do　not　love　thee　with　mine　eyes。

Shakespeare。



The　next　day；　at　noon；　Zanoni　visited　Viola；　and　the　next　day　and

the　next　and　again　the　next；days　that　to　her　seemed　like　a

special　time　set　apart　from　the　rest　of　life。　　And　yet　he　never

spoke　to　her　in　the　language　of　flattery；　and　almost　of

adoration；　to　which　she　had　been　accustomed。　　Perhaps　his　very

coldness；　so　gentle　as　it　was；　assisted　to　this　mysterious　charm。

He　talked　to　her　much　of　her　past　life；　and　she　was　scarcely

surprised　（she　now　never　thought　of　TERROR）　to　perceive　how　much

of　that　past　seemed　known　to　him。



He　made　her　speak　to　him　of　her　father；　he　made　her　recall　some

of　the　airs　of　Pisani's　wild　music。　　And　those　airs　seemed　to

charm　and　lull　him　into　reverie。



〃As　music　was　to　the　musician；〃　said　he；　〃may　science　be　to　the

wise。　　Your　father　looked　abroad　in　the　world；　all　was　discord　to

the　fine　sympathies　that　he　felt　with　the　harmonies　that　daily

and　nightly　float　to　the　throne　of　Heaven。　　Life；　with　its　noisy

ambition　and　its　mean　passions；　is　so　poor　and　base！　　Out　of　his

soul　he　created　the　life　and　the　world　for　which　his　soul　was

fitted。　　Viola；　thou　art　the　daughter　of　that　life；　and　wilt　be

the　denizen　of　that　world。〃



In　his　earlier　visits　he　did　not　speak　of　Glyndon。　　The　day　soon

came　on　which　he　renewed　the　subject。　　And　so　trustful；　obedient；

and　entire　was　the　allegiance　that　Viola　now　owned　to　his

dominion；　that；　unwelcome　as　that　subject　was；　she　restrained　her

heart；　and　listened　to　him　in　silence。



At　last　he　said；　〃Thou　hast　promised　thou　wilt　obey　my　counsels；

and　if；　Viola；　I　should　ask　thee；　nay　adjure；　to　accept　this

stranger's　hand；　and　share　his　fate；　should　he　offer　to　thee　such

a　lot；wouldst　thou　refuse？〃



And　then　she　pressed　back　the　tears　that　gushed　to　her　eyes；　and

with　a　strange　pleasure　in　the　midst　of　pain；the　pleasure　of

one　who　sacrifices　heart　itself　to　the　one　who　commands　that

heart；she　answered　falteringly；　〃If　thou　CANST　ordain　it；

why〃



〃Speak　on。〃



〃Dispose　of　me　as　thou　wilt！〃



Zanoni　stood　in　silence　for　some　moments：　　he　saw　the　struggle

which　the　girl　thought　she　concealed　so　well；　he　made　an

involuntary　movement　towards　her；　and　pressed　her　hand　to　his

lips；　it　was　the　first　time　he　had　ever　departed　even　so　far　from

a　certain　austerity　which　perhaps　made　her　fear　him　and　her　own

thoughts　the　less。



〃Viola；〃　said　he；　and　his　voice　trembled；　〃the　danger　that　I　can

avert　no　more；　if　thou　linger　still　in　Naples；　comes　hourly　near

and　near　to　thee！　　On　the　third　day　from　this　thy　fate　must　be

decided。　　I　accept　thy　promise。　　Before　the　last　hour　of　that

day；　come　what　may；　I　shall　see　thee　again；　HERE；　at　thine　own

house。　　Till　then；　farewell！〃





CHAPTER　3。IV。



Between　two　worlds　life　hovers　like　a　star

'Twixt　night　and　morn。

Byron。



When　Glyndon　left　Viola；　as　recorded　in　the　concluding　chapter　of

the　second　division　of　this　work；　he　was　absorbed　again　in　those

mystical　desires　and　conjectures　which　the　haunting　recollection

of　Zanoni　always　served　to　create。　　And　as　he　wandered　through

the　streets；　he　was　scarcely　conscious　of　his　own　movements　till；

in　the　mechanism　of　custom；　he　found　himself　in　the　midst　of　one

of　the　noble　collections　of　pictures　which　form　the　boast　of

those　Italian　cities　whose　glory　is　in　the　past。　　Thither　he　had

been　wont；　almost　daily；　to　repair；　for　the　gallery　contained

some　of　the　finest　specimens　of　a　master　especially　the　object　of

his　enthusiasm　and　study。　　There；　before　the　works　of　Salvator；

he　had　often　paused　in　deep　and　earnest　reverence。　　The　striking

characteristic　of　that　artist　is　the　〃Vigour　of　Will；〃　void　of

the　elevated　idea　of　abstract　beauty；　which　furnishes　a　model　and

archetype　to　the　genius　of　more　illustrious　order；　the　singular

energy　of　the　man　hews　out　of　the　rock　a　dignity　of　his　own。　　His

images　have　the　majesty；　not　of　the　god；　but　the　savage；　utterly

free；　like　the　sublimer　schools；　from　the　common…place　of

imitation；apart；　with　them；　from　the　conventional　littleness　of

the　Real；he　grasps　the　imagination；　and　compels　it　to　follow

him；　not　to　the　heaven；　but　through　all　that　is　most　wild　and

fantastic　upon　earth；　a　sorcery；　not　of　the　starry　magian；　but　of

the　gloomy　wizard；a　man　of　romance　whose　heart　beat　strongly；

griping　art　with　a　hand　of　iron；　and　forcing　it　to　idealise　the

scenes　of　his　actual　life。　　Before　this　powerful　will；　Glyndon

drew　back　more　awed　and　admiring　than　before　the　calmer　beauty

which　rose　from　the　soul　of　Raphael；　like　Venus　from　the　deep。



And　now；　as　awaking　from　hi