zanoni-第48部分

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strive　to　search　into　the　shadows　of　things　to　come；　I　see

confused　spectres　of　menace　and　wrath。　　Methinks　I　behold　a

ghastly　limit　to　the　wondrous　existence　I　have　held；methinks

that；　after　ages　of　the　Ideal　Life；　I　see　my　course　merge　into

the　most　stormy　whirlpool　of　the　Real。　　Where　the　stars　opened　to

me　their　gates；　there　looms　a　scaffold；thick　steams　of　blood

rise　as　from　a　shambles。　　What　is　more　strange　to　me；　a　creature

here；　a　very　type　of　the　false　ideal　of　common　men；body　and

mind；　a　hideous　mockery　of　the　art　that　shapes　the　Beautiful；　and

the　desires　that　seek　the　Perfect；　ever　haunts　my　vision　amidst

these　perturbed　and　broken　clouds　of　the　fate　to　be。　　By　that

shadowy　scaffold　it　stands　and　gibbers　at　me；　with　lips　dropping

slime　and　gore。　　Come；　O　friend　of　the　far…time；　for　me；　at

least；　thy　wisdom　has　not　purged　away　thy　human　affections。

According　to　the　bonds　of　our　solemn　order；　reduced　now　to　thee

and　myself；　lone　survivors　of　so　many　haughty　and　glorious

aspirants；　thou　art　pledged；　too；　to　warn　the　descendant　of　those

whom　thy　counsels　sought　to　initiate　into　the　great　secret　in　a

former　age。　　The　last　of　that　bold　Visconti　who　was　once　thy

pupil　is　the　relentless　persecutor　of　this　fair　child。　　With

thoughts　of　lust　and　murder；　he　is　digging　his　own　grave；　thou

mayest　yet　daunt　him　from　his　doom。　　And　I　also　mysteriously；　by

the　same　bond；　am　pledged　to　obey；　if　he　so　command；　a　less

guilty　descendant　of　a　baffled　but　nobler　student。　　If　he　reject

my　counsel；　and　insist　upon　the　pledge；　Mejnour；　thou　wilt　have

another　neophyte。　　Beware　of　another　victim！　　Come　to　me！　　This

will　reach　thee　with　all　speed。　　Answer　it　by　the　pressure　of　one

hand　that　I　can　dare　to　clasp！





CHAPTER　3。VIII。



Il　lupo

Ferito；　credo；　mi　conobbe　e　'ncontro

Mi　venne　con　la　bocca　sanguinosa。

〃Aminta；〃　At。　iv。　Sc。　i。



（The　wounded　wolf；　I　think；　knew　me；　and　came　to　meet　me　with　its

bloody　mouth。）



At　Naples；　the　tomb　of　Virgil；　beetling　over　the　cave　of

Posilipo；　is　reverenced；　not　with　the　feelings　that　should　hallow

the　memory　of　the　poet；　but　the　awe　that　wraps　the　memory　of　the

magician。　　To　his　charms　they　ascribe　the　hollowing　of　that

mountain　passage；　and　tradition　yet　guards　his　tomb　by　the

spirits　he　had　raised　to　construct　the　cavern。　　This　spot；　in　the

immediate　vicinity　of　Viola's　home；　had　often　attracted　her

solitary　footsteps。　　She　had　loved　the　dim　and　solemn　fancies

that　beset　her　as　she　looked　into　the　lengthened　gloom　of　the

grotto；　or；　ascending　to　the　tomb；　gazed　from　the　rock　on　the

dwarfed　figures　of　the　busy　crowd　that　seemed　to　creep　like

insects　along　the　windings　of　the　soil　below；　and　now；　at　noon；

she　bent　thither　her　thoughtful　way。　　She　threaded　the　narrow

path；　she　passed　the　gloomy　vineyard　that　clambers　up　the　rock；

and　gained　the　lofty　spot；　green　with　moss　and　luxuriant　foliage；

where　the　dust　of　him　who　yet　soothes　and　elevates　the　minds　of

men　is　believed　to　rest。　　From　afar　rose　the　huge　fortress　of　St。

Elmo；　frowning　darkly　amidst　spires　and　domes　that　glittered　in

the　sun。　　Lulled　in　its　azure　splendour　lay　the　Siren's　sea；　and

the　grey　smoke　of　Vesuvius；　in　the　clear　distance；　soared　like　a

moving　pillar　into　the　lucid　sky。　　Motionless　on　the　brink　of　the

precipice；　Viola　looked　upon　the　lovely　and　living　world　that

stretched　below；　and　the　sullen　vapour　of　Vesuvius　fascinated　her

eye　yet　more　than　the　scattered　gardens；　or　the　gleaming　Caprea；

smiling　amidst　the　smiles　of　the　sea。　　She　heard　not　a　step　that

had　followed　her　on　her　path　and　started　to　hear　a　voice　at　hand。

So　sudden　was　the　apparition　of　the　form　that　stood　by　her　side；

emerging　from　the　bushes　that　clad　the　crags；　and　so　singularly

did　it　harmonise　in　its　uncouth　ugliness　with　the　wild　nature　of

the　scene　immediately　around　her；　and　the　wizard　traditions　of

the　place；　that　the　colour　left　her　cheek；　and　a　faint　cry　broke

from　her　lips。



〃Tush；　pretty　trembler！do　not　be　frightened　at　my　face；〃　said

the　man；　with　a　bitter　smile。　　〃After　three　months'　marriage；

there　is　no　different　between　ugliness　and　beauty。　　Custom　is　a

great　leveller。　　I　was　coming　to　your　house　when　I　saw　you　leave

it；　so；　as　I　have　matters　of　importance　to　communicate；　I

ventured　to　follow　your　footsteps。　　My　name　is　Jean　Nicot；　a　name

already　favourably　known　as　a　French　artist。　　The　art　of　painting

and　the　art　of　music　are　nearly　connected；　and　the　stage　is　an

altar　that　unites　the　two。〃



There　was　something　frank　and　unembarrassed　in　the　man's　address

that　served　to　dispel　the　fear　his　appearance　had　occasioned。　　He

seated　himself；　as　he　spoke；　on　a　crag　beside　her；　and；　looking

up　steadily　into　her　face；　continued：



〃You　are　very　beautiful；　Viola　Pisani；　and　I　am　not　surprised　at

the　number　of　your　admirers。　　If　I　presume　to　place　myself　in　the

list；　it　is　because　I　am　the　only　one　who　loves　thee　honestly；

and　woos　thee　fairly。　　Nay；　look　not　so　indignant！　　Listen　to　me。

Has　the　Prince　di　　ever　spoken　to　thee　of　marriage；　or　the

beautiful　imposter　Zanoni；　or　the　young　blue…eyed　Englishman；

Clarence　Glyndon？　　It　is　marriage；it　is　a　home；　it　is　safety；

it　is　reputation；　that　I　offer　to　thee；　and　these　last　when　the

straight　form　grows　crooked；　and　the　bright　eyes　dim。　　What　say

you？〃　and　he　attempted　to　seize　her　hand。



Viola　shrunk　from　him；　and　silently　turned　to　depart。　　He　rose

abruptly　and　placed　himself　on　her　path。



〃Actress；　you　must　hear　me！　　Do　you　know　what　this　calling　of　the

stage　is　in　the　eyes　of　prejudice；that　is；　of　the　common

opinion　of　mankind？　　It　is　to　be　a　princess　before　the　lamps；　and

a　Pariah　before　the　day。　　No　man　believes　in　your　virtue；　no　man

credits　your　vows；　you　are　the　puppet　that　they　consent　to　trick

out　with　tinsel　for　their　amusement；　not　an　idol　for　their

worship。　　Are　you　so　enamoured　of　this　career　that　you　scorn　even

to　think　of　security　and　honour？　　Perhaps　you　are　different　from

what　you　seem。　　Perhaps　you　laugh　at　the　prejudice　that　would

degrade　you；　and　would　wisely　turn　it　to　advantage。　　Speak

frankly　to　me；　I　have　no　prejudice　either。　　Sweet　one；　I　am　sure

we　should　agree。　　Now；　this　Prince　di　；　I　have　a　message　from

him。　　Shall　I　deliver　it？〃



Never　had　Viola　felt　as　she　felt　then；　never　had　she　so

thoroughly　seen　all　the　perils　of　her　forelorn　condition　and　her

fearful　renown。　　Nicot　continued：



〃Zanoni　would　but　amuse　himself　with　thy　vanity；　Glyndon　would

despise　himself；　if　he　offered　thee　his　name；　and　thee；　if　thou

wouldst　accept　it；　but　the　Prince　di　　is　in　earnest；　and　he　is

wealthy。　　Listen！〃



And　Nicot　approached　his　lips　to　her；　and　hissed　a　sentence　which

she　did　not　suffer　him　to　complete。　　She　darted　from　him　with　one

glance　of　unutterable　disdain。　　As　he　strove　to　regain　his　hold

of　her　arm；　he　lost　his　footing；　and　fell　down　the　sides　of　the

rock　till；　bruised　and　lacerated；　a　pine…branch　saved　him　from