zanoni-第74部分

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change　the　face　of　the　social　world？　　The　last　secrets　are

intrusted　only　to　him　of　whose　virtue　the　Master　is　convinced。

Patience！　　It　is　labour　itself　that　is　the　great　purifier　of　the

mind；　and　by　degrees　the　secrets　will　grow　upon　thyself　as　thy

mind　becomes　riper　to　receive　them。〃



At　last　Mejnour　professed　himself　satisfied　with　the　progress

made　by　his　pupil。　　〃The　hour　now　arrives；〃　he　said；　〃when　thou

mayst　pass　the　great　but　airy　barrier；when　thou　mayst　gradually

confront　the　terrible　Dweller　of　the　Threshold。　　Continue　thy

labourscontinue　to　surpass　thine　impatience　for　results　until

thou　canst　fathom　the　causes。　　I　leave　thee　for　one　month；　if　at

the　end　of　that　period；　when　I　return；　the　tasks　set　thee　are

completed；　and　thy　mind　prepared　by　contemplation　and　austere

thought　for　the　ordeal；　I　promise　thee　the　ordeal　shall　commence。

One　caution　alone　I　give　thee：　　regard　it　as　a　peremptory

command；　enter　not　this　chamber！〃　　（They　were　then　standing　in

the　room　where　their　experiments　had　been　chiefly　made；　and　in

which　Glyndon；　on　the　night　he　had　sought　the　solitude　of　the

mystic；　had　nearly　fallen　a　victim　to　his　intrusion。）



〃Enter　not　this　chamber　till　my　return；　or；　above　all；　if　by　any

search　for　materials　necessary　to　thy　toils　thou　shouldst　venture

hither；　forbear　to　light　the　naphtha　in　those　vessels；　and　to

open　the　vases　on　yonder　shelves。　　I　leave　the　key　of　the　room　in

thy　keeping；　in　order　to　try　thy　abstinence　and　self…control。

Young　man；　this　very　temptation　is　a　part　of　thy　trial。〃



With　that；　Mejnour　placed　the　key　in　his　hands；　and　at　sunset　he

left　the　castle。



For　several　days　Glyndon　continued　immersed　in　employments　which

strained　to　the　utmost　all　the　faculties　of　his　intellect。　　Even

the　most　partial　success　depended　so　entirely　on　the　abstraction

of　the　mind；　and　the　minuteness　of　its　calculations；　that　there

was　scarcely　room　for　any　other　thought　than　those　absorbed　in

the　occupation。　　And　doubtless　this　perpetual　strain　of　the

faculties　was　the　object　of　Mejnour　in　works　that　did　not　seem

exactly　pertinent　to　the　purposes　in　view。　　As　the　study　of　the

elementary　mathematics；　for　example；　is　not　so　profitable　in　the

solving　of　problems；　useless　in　our　after…callings；　as　it　is

serviceable　in　training　the　intellect　to　the　comprehension　and

analysis　of　general　truths。



But　in　less　than　half　the　time　which　Mejnour　had　stated　for　the

duration　of　his　absence；　all　that　the　mystic　had　appointed　to　his

toils　was　completed　by　the　pupil；　and　then　his　mind；　thus

relieved　from　the　drudgery　and　mechanism　of　employment；　once　more

sought　occupation　in　dim　conjecture　and　restless　fancies。　　His

inquisitive　and　rash　nature　grew　excited　by　the　prohibition　of

Mejnour；　and　he　found　himself　gazing　too　often；　with　perturbed

and　daring　curiosity；　upon　the　key　of　the　forbidden　chamber。　　He

began　to　feel　indignant　at　a　trial　of　constancy　which　he　deemed

frivolous　and　puerile。　　What　nursery　tales　of　Bluebeard　and　his

closet　were　revived　to　daunt　and　terrify　him！　　How　could　the　mere

walls　of　a　chamber；　in　which　he　had　so　often　securely　pursued　his

labours；　start　into　living　danger？　　If　haunted；　it　could　be　but

by　those　delusions　which　Mejnour　had　taught　him　to　despise；a

shadowy　lion；a　chemical　phantasm！　　Tush！　he　lost　half　his　awe

of　Mejnour；　when　he　thought　that　by　such　tricks　the　sage　could

practise　upon　the　very　intellect　he　had　awakened　and　instructed！

　Still　he　resisted　the　impulses　of　his　curiosity　and　his　pride；

and；　to　escape　from　their　dictation；　he　took　long　rambles　on　the

hills；　or　amidst　the　valleys　that　surrounded　the　castle；seeking

by　bodily　fatigue　to　subdue　the　unreposing　mind。　　One　day

suddenly　emerging　from　a　dark　ravine；　he　came　upon　one　of　those

Italian　scenes　of　rural　festivity　and　mirth　in　which　the　classic

age　appears　to　revive。　　It　was　a　festival；　partly　agricultural；

partly　religious；　held　yearly　by　the　peasants　of　that　district。

Assembled　at　the　outskirts　of　a　village；　animated　crowds；　just

returned　from　a　procession　to　a　neighbouring　chapel；　were　now

forming　themselves　into　groups：　　the　old　to　taste　the　vintage；

the　young　to　dance；all　to　be　gay　and　happy。　　This　sudden

picture　of　easy　joy　and　careless　ignorance；　contrasting　so

forcibly　with　the　intense　studies　and　that　parching　desire　for

wisdom　which　had　so　long　made　up　his　own　life；　and　burned　at　his

own　heart；　sensibly　affected　Glyndon。　　As　he　stood　aloof　and

gazing　on　them；　the　young　man　felt　once　more　that　he　was　young。

The　memory　of　all　he　had　been　content　to　sacrifice　spoke　to　him

like　the　sharp　voice　of　remorse。　　The　flitting　forms　of　the　women

in　their　picturesque　attire；　their　happy　laughter　ringing　through

the　cool；　still　air　of　the　autumn　noon；　brought　back　to　the

heart；　or　rather　perhaps　to　the　senses；　the　images　of　his　past

time；　the　〃golden　shepherd　hours；〃　when　to　live　was　but　to　enjoy。



He　approached　nearer　and　nearer　to　the　scene；　and　suddenly　a

noisy　group　swept　round　him；　and　Maestro　Paolo；　tapping　him

familiarly　on　the　shoulder；　exclaimed　in　a　hearty　voice；

〃Welcome；　Excellency！we　are　rejoiced　to　see　you　amongst　us。〃

Glyndon　was　about　to　reply　to　this　salutation；　when　his　eyes

rested　upon　the　face　of　a　young　girl　leaning　on　Paolo's　arm；　of　a

beauty　so　attractive　that　his　colour　rose　and　his　heart　beat　as

he　encountered　her　gaze。　　Her　eyes　sparkled　with　a　roguish　and

petulant　mirth；　her　parted　lips　showed　teeth　like　pearls；　as　if

impatient　at　the　pause　of　her　companion　from　the　revel　of　the

rest；　her　little　foot　beat　the　ground　to　a　measure　that　she

half…hummed；　half…chanted。　　Paolo　laughed　as　he　saw　the　effect

the　girl　had　produced　upon　the　young　foreigner。



〃Will　you　not　dance；　Excellency？　　Come；　lay　aside　your　greatness；

and　be　merry；　like　us　poor　devils。　　See　how　our　pretty　Fillide　is

longing　for　a　partner。　　Take　compassion　on　her。〃



Fillide　pouted　at　this　speech；　and；　disengaging　her　arm　from

Paolo's；　turned　away；　but　threw　over　her　shoulder　a　glance　half

inviting；　half　defying。　　Glyndon；　almost　involuntarily；　advanced

to　her；　and　addressed　her。



Oh；　yes；　he　addresses　her！　　She　looks　down；　and　smiles。　　Paolo

leaves　them　to　themselves；　sauntering　off　with　a　devil…me…carish

air。　　Fillide　speaks　now；　and　looks　up　at　the　scholar's　face　with

arch　invitation。　　He　shakes　his　head；　Fillide　laughs；　and　her

laugh　is　silvery。　　She　points　to　a　gay　mountaineer；　who　is

tripping　up　to　her　merrily。　　Why　does　Glyndon　feel　jealous？　　Why；

when　she　speaks　again；　does　he　shake　his　head　no　more？　　He　offers

his　hand；　Fillide　blushes；　and　takes　it　with　a　demure　coquetry。

What！　is　it　so；　indeed！　　They　whirl　into　the　noisy　circle　of　the

revellers。　　Ha！　ha！　is　not　this　better　than　distilling　herbs；　and

breaking　thy　brains　on　Pythagorean　numbers？　　How　lightly　Fillide

bounds　along！　　How　her　lithesome　waist　supples　itself　to　thy

circling　arm！　　Tara…ra…tara；　ta…tara；　rara…ra！　　What　the　devil　is