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JONTA

S OF
Bulwe

ton

EDITION

EX
13

1900
No. 31783 ALC.. D SEC. BR4900
AL

RUTGERS COLLEGE

pt.1
LIBRARY .

PRESENTED BY THE

Peithessophian Literary Society

of Rutgers College.
 G.Y.20

Prithensophian Society

Rutgers College

Nor. 5th 1874 .

 NOVELS

OF

SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON

Library Edition

ROMANCES

VOL. XXIV .
 ZANONI

BY

SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON, BART.

LIBRARY EDITION-IN TWO VOLUMES

VOL . I.

PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO .
1867 .
PR4900
.AIL

4.17

pt.1.
 то

JOHN GIBSON , R.A. ,

SCULPTOR .

In looking round the wide and luminous circle of

our great living Englishmen, to select one to whom
I might fitly dedicate this work, —one who , in his
life as in his genius, might illustrate the principle I
have sought to convey ; -elevated by the ideal
which he exalts, and serenely dwelling in a glorious
existence with the images born of his imagination, -
in looking round for some such man, my thoughts
rested upon you. Afar from our turbulent cabals-
from the ignoble jealousy and the sordid strife which
degrade and acerbate the ambition of Genius, -in
your Roman Home, you have lived amidst all that is
loveliest and least perishable in the Past, and con-
tributed with the noblest aims, and in the purest
spirit, to the mighty heirlooms of the Future. Your
youth has been devoted to toil, that your manhood
may be consecrated to fame ; -a fame unsullied by
one desire of gold . You have escaped the two worst
1* (v)
vi DEDICATORY EPISTLE .

perils that beset the Artist in our time and land --

the debasing tendencies of Commerce, and the angry
rivalries of Competition. You have not wrought
your marble for the market -you have not been
tempted, by the praises which our vicious criticism
has showered upon exaggeration and distortion, to
lower your taste to the level of the Hour ; you have
lived, and you have labored, as if you had no rivals ,
but in the Dead - no purchasers, save in judges of
what is best. In the divine Priesthood of the Beauti-

ful, you have sought only to increase her worshippers

and enrich her temples. The pupil of Canova, you
have inherited his excellences, while you have shunned
his errors yours his delicacy, not his affectation .
Your heart resembles him even more than your
genius you have the same noble enthusiasm for
your sublime profession ― the same lofty freedom
from envy, and the spirit that depreciates—the same
generous desire, not to war with, but to serve, Artists
in your art ; aiding, strengthening, advising, elevating
the timidity of inexperience, and the vague aspira-
tions of youth. By the intuition of a kindred mind ,
you have equalled the learning of Winckelman , and
the plastic poetry of Goethe, in the intimate compre-
hension of the Antique. Each work of yours, rightly
studied, is in itself a criticism, illustrating the sub-
lime secrets of the Grecian Art, which, without the
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. vii

servility of plagiarism, you have contributed to re-

vive amongst us ; in you we behold its three great
and long undetected principles , ― simplicity, calm,
and concentration .
But your admiration of the Greeks has not led you

to the bigotry of the mere Antiquarian , nor made

you less sensible of the unappreciated excellence of
the mighty Modern, worthy to be your countryman,
-though till his statue is inthe streets of our
capital, we show ourselves not worthy of the glory
he has shed upon our land : You have not suffered
even your gratitude to Canova to blind you to the
superiority of Flaxman. When we become sensible
of our title-deeds to renown in that single name, we

may look for an English public capable of real patron-

age to English Art, - and not till then.
I, Artist in words, dedicate, then, to you, Artist,
whose ideas speak in marble, this well-loved work of
my matured manhood. I love it not the less because
it has been little understood and superficially judged
by the common herd : it was not meant for them. I
love it not the more because it has found enthusiastic

favorers amongst the Few. My affection for my

work is rooted in the solemn and pure delight which
it gave me to conceive and to perform. If I had
graven it on the rocks of a desert, this apparition of
my own innermost mind, in its least clouded moments,
viii DEDICATORY EPISTLE .

would have been to me as dear : And this ought, I

believe, to be the sentiment with which he whose Art
is born of faith in the truth and beauty of the princi-

ples he seeks to illustrate, should regard his work.

Your serener existence, uniform and holy, my lot
denies - if my heart covets. But our true nature is

in our thoughts, not our deeds : And therefore, in

Books - which are his Thoughts -the Author's
character lies bare to the discerning eye. It is not
in the life of cities - in the turmoil and the crowd ;
it is in the still, the lonely, and more sacred life,
which for some hours, under every sun, the student
-
lives (his stolen retreat from the Agora to the
Cave), that I feel there is between us the bond of
that secret sympathy, that magnetic chain — which
unites the Everlasting Brotherhood , of whose being
Zanoni is the type.
E. B. L.

LONDON, May, 1845.

 INTRODUCTION ..

It is possible that, among my readers, there may

be a few not unacquainted with an old book-shop,
existing some years since in the neighborhood of
Covent Garden ; I say a few, for certainly there was
little enough to attract the many , in those precious
volumes which the labor of a life had accumulated on
the dusty shelves of my old friend D. There
were to be found no popular treatises, no entertaining
romances, no histories , no travels, no " Library for
the People, " no " Amusement for the Million. " But
there, perhaps, throughout all Europe, the curious
might discover the most notable collection, ever
amassed by an enthusiast, of the works of Alchemist,
Cabalist, and Astrologer . The owner had lavished a
fortune in the purchase of unsaleable treasures . But
old D did not desire to sell. It absolutely went
to his heart when a customer entered his shop ; he
watched the movements of the presumptuous intruder
with a vindictive glare , he fluttered around him with
uneasy vigilance ; he frowned, he groaned, when
profane hands dislodged his idols from their niches.
If it were one of the favorite sultanas of his wizard
(ix)
X INTRODUCTION .

harem that attracted you, and the price named were

not sufficiently enormous, he would not unfrequently
double the sum. Demur, and in brisk delight he
snatched the venerable charmer from your hands ;
accede, and he became the picture of despair : -Nor
unfrequently, at the dead of night, would he knock
at your door, and entreat you to sell him back, at
your own terms, what you had so egregiously bought
at his. A believer himself in his Averroes and Para-
celsus , he was as loth as the philosophers he studied
to communicate to the profane the learning he had
collected.
It so chanced that some years ago, in my younger
days , whether of authorship or life , I felt a desire to
make myself acquainted with the true origin and
tenets of the singular sect known by the name of
Rosicrucians. Dissatisfied with the scanty and super-
ficial accounts to be found in the works usually re-
ferred to on the subject, it struck me as possible that
Mr. D's collection, which was rich, not only in
black-letter, but in manuscripts, might contain some
more accurate and authentic records of that famous
brotherhood - written , who knows ? by one of their
own order, and confirming by authority and detail
the pretensions to wisdom and to virtue which Brin-
garet had arrogated to the successors of the Chaldean
and Gymnosophist . Accordingly I repaired to what,
doubtless, I ought to be ashamed to confess, was once
one of my favorite haunts. But are there no errors
and no fallacies, in the chronicles of our own day, as
absurd as those of the alchemists of old ? Our very
newspapers may seem to our posterity as full of delu-
 INTRODUCTION . xi

sions as the books of the alchemists do to us ;-not but

what the Press is the air we breathe - and uncom-
monly foggy the air is too !
On entering the shop, I was struck by the venera-
ble appearance of a customer whom I had never seen
there before. I was struck yet more by the respect
with which he was treated by the disdainful collector.
" Sir," cried the last, emphatically, as I was turning
over the leaves of the catalogue- " Sir, you are the
only man I have met in five-and-forty years that I
have spent in these researches , who is worthy to be
my customer. How - where, in this frivolous age,
could you have acquired a knowledge so profound ?
And this august fraternity, whose doctrines, hinted
at by the earliest philosophers, are still a mystery to
the latest ; tell me if there really exists upon the
earth, any book, any manuscript, in which their dis-
coveries, their tenets, are to be learned ? "
At the words "august fraternity," I need scarcely
say that my attention had been at once aroused, and
I listened eagerly for the stranger's reply.
"I do not think," said the old gentleman , " that
the masters of the school have ever consigned, except
by obscure hint and mystical parable, their real doc-
trines to the world. And I do not blame them for
their discretion."
Here he paused, and seemed about to retire, when
I said, somewhat abruptly, to the collector, " I see
nothing, Mr. D , in this catalogue, which relates
to the Rosicrucians !"
" The Rosicrucians ! " repeated the old gentleman ,
and in his turn he surveyed me with deliberate sur-
 xii INTRODUCTION .

prise. " Who but a Rosicrucian could explain the

Rosicrucian mysteries ! And can you imagine that
any members of that sect, the most jealous of all
secret societies, would themselves lift the veil that
hides the Isis of their wisdom from the world ? "
"Aha ! " thought I, " this, then, is ' the august
fraternity ' of which you spoke. Heaven be praised !
I certainly have stumbled on one of the brotherhood ."
" But," I said, aloud, " if not in books, sir, where
else am I to obtain information ? Nowadays one can
hazard nothing in print without authority, and one
may scarcely quote Shakspeare without citing chap-
ter and verse. This is the age of facts -
— the age of
facts, sir."
""
Well," said the old gentleman , with a pleasant
smile, " if we meet again, perhaps, at least, I may
direct your researches to the proper source of intelli-
gence. And with that he buttoned his great- coat,
whistled to his dog, and departed .
It so happened that I did meet again with the old
gentleman, exactly four days after our brief conver-
sation in Mr. D's book-shop. I was riding
leisurely towards Highgate, when, at the foot of its
classic hill, I recognized the stranger ; he was mounted
on a black pony, and before him trotted his dog,
which was black also.
If you meet the man whom you wish to know, on
horseback, at the commencement of a long hill , where,
unless he has borrowed a friend's favorite hack, he
cannot, in decent humanity to the brute creation ,
ride away from you, I apprehend that it is your own
fault if you have not gone far in your object before

29
47
 INTRODUCTION . xiii

you have gained the top. In short, so well did I

succeed , that on reaching Highgate, the old gentle-
man invited me to rest at his house, which was a
little apart from the village ; and an excellent house
it was small, but commodious, with a large garden,
and commanding from the windows such a prospect
as Lucretius would recommend to philosophers : -
the spires and domes of London, on a clear day,
distinctly visible ; here the Retreat of the Hermit,
and there the Mare Magnum of the world .
The walls of the principal rooms were embellished
with pictures of extraordinary merit, and in that
high school of art which is so little understood out
of Italy. I was surprised to learn that they were all
from the hand of the owner. My evident admiration
pleased my new friend , and led to talk upon his part,
which showed him no less elevated in his theories of
art than an adept in the practice. Without fatiguing
the reader with irrelevant criticism, it is necessary ,
perhaps, as elucidating much of the design and
character of the work which these prefatory pages
introduce, that I should briefly observe, that he
insisted as much upon the Connection of the Arts, as
a distinguished author had upon that of the Sciences ;
that he held that in all works of imagination , whether
expressed by words or by colors, the artist of the
higher schools must make the broadest distinction
between the Real and the True, in other words,
between the imitation of actual life, and the exalta-
tion of Nature into the Ideal.
" The one," said he, " is the Dutch School, the
other is the Greek."
- 2
I. —
xiv INTRODUCTION .

"L
Sir," said I, "the Dutch is the most in fashion."
" Yes, in painting, perhaps," answered my host,
" but in literature
"It was of literature I spoke. Our growing poets
are all for simplicity and Betty Foy ; and our critics
hold it the highest praise of a work of imagination,
to say that its characters are exact to common life.
""
Even in sculpture
" In sculpture ! No - no ! there the high ideal
must at least be essential ! "
" Pardon me ; I fear you have not seen Souter
Johnny and Tam O'Shanter ."
" Ah ! " said the old gentleman , shaking his head,
" I live very much out of the world , I see. I sup-
pose Shakspeare has ceased to be admired? "
" On the contrary ; people make the adoration of
Shakspeare the excuse for attacking everybody else.
But then our critics have discovered that Shakspeare
is so real !"
""
'Real ! The poet who has never once drawn a
character to be met with in actual life - who has
never once descended to a passion that is false, or a
personage who is real ! "
I was about to reply very severely to this paradox,
when I perceived that my companion was growing a
little out of temper. And he who wishes to catch a
Rosicrucian, must take care not to disturb the
waters. I thought it better, therefore , to turn the
conversation .
"Revenons à nos moutons, " said I ; " you prom-
ised to enlighten my ignorance as to the Rosicru-
cians."
 INTRODUCTION . XV

"Well ! " quoth he, rather sternly, " but for what
purpose ? Perhaps you desire only to enter the tem-
ple in order to ridicule the rites ? ”
"What do you take me for ! Surely, were I so
inclined, the fate of the Abbé de Villars is a sufficient
warning to all men not to treat idly of the realms of ·
the Salamander and the Sylph. Everybody knows
how mysteriously that ingenious personage was de-
prived of his life, in revenge for the witty mockeries
of his Comte de Gabalis."
" Salamander and Sylph ! I see that you fall into
the vulgar error, and translate literally the allegori-
cal language of the mystics."
With that the old gentleman condescended to enter
into a very interesting, and, as it seemed to me , a
very erudite relation, of the tenets of the Rosicru-
cians , some of whom, he asserted , still existed, and
still prosecuted , in august secrecy, their profound
researches into natural science and occult philosophy.
" But this fraternity," said he, " however respect-
able and virtuous - virtuous I say, for no monastic
order is more severe in the practice of moral precepts,
or more ardent in Christian faith- this fraternity is
but a branch of others yet more transcendent in the
powers they have obtained, and yet more illustrious
in their origin. Are you acquainted with the Plato-
nists ?"
" I have occasionally lost my way in their laby-
rinth," said I. " Faith, they are rather difficult
gentlemen to understand."
" Yet their knottiest problems have never yet been
xvi INTRODUCTION .

published . Their sublimest works are in manuscript,

and constitute the initiatory learning, not only of the
Rosicrucians, but of the nobler brotherhoods I have
referred to . More solemn and sublime still is the
knowledge to be gleaned from the elder Pythagoreans ,
and the immortal master-pieces of Apollonius .'
"Apollonius the impostor of Tyanea ! are his writ-
ings extant ? "
""
' Impostor ! " cried my host ; "Apollonius an im-
postor !"
" I beg your pardon ; I did not know he was a
friend of yours ; and if you vouch for his character ,
I will believe him to have been a very respectable
man, who only spoke the truth when he boasted of
his power to be in two places at the same time."
" Is that so difficult ? " said the old gentleman ; " if
so, you have never dreamed !"
Here ended our conversation ; but from that time
an acquaintance was formed between us, which lasted
till my venerable friend departed this life. Peace to
his ashes ! He was a person of singular habits and
eccentric opinions ; but the chief part of his time was
occupied in acts of quiet and unostentatious goodness.
He was an enthusiast in the duties of the Samaritan ;
and as his virtues were softened by the gentlest
charity, so his hopes were based upon the devoutest
belief. He never conversed upon his own origin and
history, nor have I ever been able to penetrate the
darkness in which they were concealed . He seemed
to have seen much of the world, and to have been an
eye-witness of the first French Revolution, a subject
 INTRODUCTION . xvii

upon which he was equally eloquent and instructive .

At the same time, he did not regard the crimes of
that stormy period with the philosophical leniency
with which enlightened writers (their heads safe upon
their shoulders) are, in the present day, inclined to
treat the massacres of the past : he spoke not as a
student who had read and reasoned , but as a man
who had seen and suffered . The old gentleman
seemed alone in the world ; nor did I know that he
had one relation, till his executor, a distant cousin,
residing abroad, informed me of the very handsome
legacy which my poor friend had bequeathed me.
This consisted first of a sum about which I think it
best to be guarded, foreseeing the possibility of a new
tax upon real and funded property ; and secondly, of
certain precious manuscripts , to which the following
volumes owe their existence.
I imagine I trace this latter bequest to a visit I
paid the Sage, if so I may be permitted to call him,
a few weeks before his death.
Although he read little of our modern literature,
my friend, with the affable good -nature which be-
longed to him, graciously permitted me to consult
him upon various literary undertakings meditated
by the desultory ambition of a young and inexperi-
enced student. And at that time I sought his advice
upon a work of imagination, intended to depict the
effects of enthusiasm upon different modifications of
character. He listened to my conception, which was
sufficiently trite and prosaic, with his usual patience ;
and then, thoughtfully turning to his book-shelves,
2* B
xviii INTRODUCTION .

took down an old volume , and read to me, first in

Greek, and secondly in English, some extracts to the
following effect : -
"Plato here expresses four kinds of Mania, by
which I desire to understand enthusiasm and the in-
-
spiration of the gods. Firstly, the musical ; secondly,
the telestic or mystic ; thirdly, the prophetic ; and
fourthly, that which belongs to Love. "
The Author he quoted , after contending that there
is something in the soul above intellect, and stating
that there are in our nature distinct energies, by the
one of which we discover and seize as it were on
sciences and theorems with almost intuitive rapidity,
by another, through which high art is accomplished ,
like the statues of Phidias , proceeded to state, that
"enthusiasm, in the true acceptation of the word, is ,
when that part of the soul which is above intellect
is excited to the gods, and thence derives its inspi-
ration . ”
The Author then pursuing his comment upon
Plato, observes, that " one of these manias may suffice
(especially that which belongs to Love) to lead back
the soul to its first divinity and happiness ; but that
there is an intimate union with them all ; and that
the ordinary progress through which the soul ascends
is, primarily, through the musical ; next , through the
telestic or mystic ; thirdly, through the prophetic ;
and lastly, through the enthusiasm of Love."
While with a bewildered understanding and a re-
luctant attention , I listened to these intricate sub-
limities, my adviser closed the volume, and said with
 INTRODUCTION . xix

complacency, " There is the motto for your book—

the thesis for your theme.'
"Davus sum, non Edipus, " said I, shaking my
head, discontentedly. "All this may be exceedingly
fine, but Heaven forgive me - I don't understand a
word of it. The mysteries of your Rosicrucians, and
your fraternities, are mere child's play to the jargon
of the Platonists. "
"Yet, not till you rightly understand this passage,
can you understand the higher theories of the Rosi-
crucians, or of the still nobler fraternities you speak
of with so much levity."
" Oh, if that be the case, I give up in despair.
Why not, since you are so well versed in the matter,
take the motto for a book of your own?"
"But if I have already composed a book with that
thesis for its theme, will you prepare it for the public ? "
"With the greatest pleasure, " said I, -alas, too
rashly !
" I shall hold you to your promise, " returned the
old gentleman, " and when I am no more, you will
receive the manuscripts. From what you say of the
prevailing taste in literature, I cannot flatter you
with the hope that you will gain much by the under-
taking. And I tell you beforehand that you will find
it not a little laborious ."
"Is your work a romance ? ”
“ It is a romance , and it is not a romance . It is a
truth for those who can comprehend it, and an ex-
travagance for those who cannot . ”
At last there arrived the manuscripts, with a brief
 XX INTRODUCTION .

note from my deceased friend , reminding me of my

imprudent promise.
With mournful interest, and yet with eager im-
patience, I opened the packet and trimmed my lamp.
Conceive my dismay when I found the whole written
in an unintelligible cipher. I present the reader with
a specimen : 6

동
#
□ 77 V + 5 }
3
‫א‬
3 ~ 3

and so on for nine hundred and forty mortal pages in

foolscap . I could scarcely believe my eyes ; in fact,
I began to think the lamp burned singularly blue ;
and sundry misgivings as to the unhallowed nature
of the characters I had so unwittingly opened upon,
coupled with the strange hints and mystical language
of the old gentleman, crept through my disordered
imagination. Certainly, to say no worse of it, the
whole thing looked uncanny ! I was about, precipi-
tately, to hurry the papers into my desk, with a pious
determination to have nothing more to do with them,
when my eye fell upon a book, neatly bound in blue

morocco, and which, in my eagerness, I had hitherto

overlooked . I opened this volume with great pre-
1 -
caution, not knowing what might jump out, and-
guess my delight — found that it contained a key or
dictionary to the hieroglyphics. Not to weary the
reader with an account of my labors , I am contented
with saying that at last I imagined myself capable
 INTRODUCTION . xxi

of construing the characters, and set to work in good

earnest. Still it was no easy task, and two years
elapsed before I had made much progress. I then,
by way of experiment on the public, obtained the in-
sertion of a few desultory chapters, in a periodical
with which, for a few months, I had the honor to be
connected. They appeared to excite more curiosity
than I had presumed to anticipate ; and I renewed,
with better heart, my laborious undertaking. But
now a new misfortune befell me : I found as I pro-
ceeded, that the Author had made two copies of his
work, one much more elaborate and detailed than the
other : I had stumbled upon the earlier copy, and
had my whole task to re-model, and the chapters I
had written to re-translate. I may say then, that,
exclusive of intervals devoted to more pressing occu-
pations, my unlucky promise cost me the toil ofseveral
years before I could bring it to adequate fulfilment.
The task was the more difficult, since the style in the
original is written in a kind of rhythmical prose, as
if the author desired that in some degree his work
should be regarded as one of poetical conception and .
design . To this it was not possible to do justice, and
in the attempt, I have, doubtless, very often need of
the reader's indulgent consideration . My natural
respect for the old gentleman's vagaries , with a muse
of equivocal character, must be my only excuse when-
ever the language, without luxuriating into verse,
borrows flowers scarcely natural to prose. Truth
compels me also to confess , that, with all my pains , I
am by no means sure that I have invariably given
xxii INTRODUCTION .

the true meaning of the cipher ; nay, that here and

there either a gap in the narrative, or the sudden
assumption of a new cipher, to which no key was
afforded, has obliged me to resort to interpolations of
my own, no doubt easily discernible, but which, I
flatter myself, are not inharmonious to the general
design. This confession leads me to the sentence
with which I shall conclude-If, reader, in this book
there be anything that pleases you, it is certainly
mine ; but whenever you come to something you dis-
like,-lay the blame upon the old gentleman !

LONDON, January, 1842.

N. B. The notes appended to the text are sometimes by the

Author, sometimes by the Editor. - I have occasionally (but not
always) marked the distinction : —where, however, this is omitted,
the ingenuity of the Reader will be rarely at fault.
 ZANONI .

BOOK FIRST .

THE MUSICIAN .
 PH
SO

ZANONI .

CHAPTER I.

Vergina era
D' alta beltà, ma sua beltà non cura :
* * * * * *
Di matura, d' amor, de' cieli amici
Le negligenze sue sono artifici.
GERUSAL. LIB. , canto ii. xiv.— xviii.

AT Naples, in the latter half of the last century, a

worthy artist, named Gaetano Pisani, lived and flourished.
He was a musician of great genius, but not of popular
reputation ; there was in all his compositions something
capricious and fantastic, which did not please the taste
of the Dilettanti of Naples. He was fond of unfamiliar
subjects, into which he introduced airs and symphonies
that excited a kind of terror in those who listened . The
names of his pieces will probably suggest their nature.
I find, for instance, among his MSS. , these titles : " The
Feast of the Harpies, " " The Witches at Benevento,"
* She was a virgin of a glorious beauty, but regarded not her
beauty * * Negligence itself is art in those favored by
nature, by love, and by the heavens.
I.- 3 (25)
26 ZANONI.
""
'The Descent of Orpheus into Hades," " The Evil Eye,"
" The Eumenides, " and many others that evince a power-
ful imagination, delighting in the fearful and supernatural,
but often relieved , by an airy and delicate fancy, with
passages of exquisite grace and beauty. It is true that
in the selection of his subjects from ancient fable, Gaetano
Pisani was much more faithful than his contemporaries
to the remote origin and the early genius of Italian Opera.
That descendant, however effeminate, of the ancient union
between Song and Drama, when, after long obscurity and
dethronement, it regained a punier sceptre, though a
gaudier purple, by the banks of the Etrurian Arno, or
amidst the Lagunes of Venice, had chosen all its primary
inspirations from the unfamiliar and classic sources of
heathen legend ; and Pisani's " Descent of Orpheus"
was but a bolder, darker, and more scientific repetition
of the " Euridice " which Jacopi Peri set to music at the
august nuptials of Henry of Navarre and Mary of Medi-
cis. * Still, as I have said, the style of the Neapolitan
musician was not on the whole pleasing to ears grown
nice and euphuistic in the more dulcet melodies of the
day ; and faults and extravagancies easily discernible,
and often to appearance wilful, served the critics for an
excuse for their distaste. Fortunately, or the poor musi
cian might have starved, he was not only a composer,
but also an excellent practical performer, especially on

* Orpheus was the favorite hero of early Italian Opera, or Lyrical

Drama. The Orfeo of Angelo Politiano was produced 1475. The
Orfeo of Monteverde was performed at Venice in 1667.
 ZANONI . 27

the violin, and by that instrument he earned a decent

subsistence as one of the orchestra at the Great Theatre
of San Carlo. Here, formal and appointed tasks neces-
sarily kept his eccentric fancies in tolerable check, though
it is recorded that no less than five times he had been
deposed from his desk for having shocked the conoscenti,
and thrown the whole band into confusion, by impromptu
variations of so frantic and startling a nature that one
might well have imagined that the harpies or witches who
inspired his composition's had clawed hold of his instru
ment. The impossibility, however, to find any one of
equal excellence as a performer (that is to say, in his more
lucid and orderly moments) , had forced his reinstalment,
and he had now, for the most part, reconciled himself to
the narrow sphere of his appointed adagios or allegros.
The audience, too, aware of his propensity, were quick
to perceive the least deviation from the text ; and if he
wandered for a moment, which might also be detected by
the eye as well as the ear, in some strange contortion of
visage, and some ominous flourish of his bow, a gentle
and admonitory murmur recalled the musician from his
Elysium or his Tartarus, to the sober regions of his desk.
Then he would start as if from a dream . cast a hurried ,
frightened, apolegetic glance around , and, with a crest-
fallen, humbled air, draw his rebellious instrument back
to the beaten track of the glib monotony. But at home
he would make himself amends for this reluctant drudgery.
And there, grasping the unhappy violin with ferocious
fingers, he would pour forth, often till the morning rose,
28 ZANONI .

strange wild measures, that would startle the early fisher-

man on the shore below with a superstitious awe, and
make him cross himself as if mermaid or sprite had wailed
no earthly music in his ear.
This man's appearance was in keeping with the charac-
teristics of his art. The features were noble and striking,
but worn and haggard , with black, careless locks, tangled
into a maze of curls, and a fixed, speculative, dreamy
stare in his large and hollow eyes. All his movements
were peculiar, sudden, and abrupt, as the impulse seized
him ; and in gliding through the streets, or along the
beach, he was heard laughing and talking to himself.
Withal, he was a harmless, guileless, gentle creature, and
would share his mite with any idle lazzaroni, whom he
often paused to contemplate as they lay lazily basking in
the sun . Yet was he thoroughly unsocial. He formed

no friends, flattered no patrons, resorted to none of the

merry-makings, so dear to the children of music and the
south. He and his art seemed alone suited to each other
-- both quaint, primitive, unworldly, irregular. You could
not separate the man from his music ; it was himself.
Without it, he was nothing, a mere machine ! With it,
he was king over worlds of his own. Poor man, he had
little enough in this ! - At a manufacturing town in
England there is a grave-stone, on which the epitaph
records " one Claudius Phillips, whose absolute contempt
for riches, and inimitable performance on the violin, made
him the admiration of all that knew him ! " Logical
conjunction of opposite eulogies ! In proportion, O
 ZANONI . 29

Genius, to thy contempt for riches, will be thy perform-

ance on thy violin !
Gaetano Pisani's talents as a composer had been chiefly
exhibited in music appropriate to this his favorite instru-
ment, of all, unquestionably, the most various and royal
in its resources and power over the passions. As Shak-
speare among poets, is the Cremona among instruments.
Nevertheless, he had composed other pieces, of larger
ambition and wider accomplishment, and, chief of these,
his precious -
his unpurchased — his unpublished — his
unpublishable and imperishable opera of the " Siren. "
This great work had been the dream of his boyhood - the
mistress of his manhood ; in advancing age " it stood
beside him like his youth. " Vainly had he struggled to
place it before the world. Even bland , unjealous Paisiello,
Maestro di Capella, shook his gentle head when the mu-
sician favored him with a specimen of one of his most
thrilling scenas. And yet, Paisiello , though that music
.
differs from all Durante taught thee to emulate , there
may-but patience, Gaetano Pisani !-bide thy time, and
keep thy violin in tune !
Strange as it may appear to the fairer reader, this gro-
tesque personage had yet formed those ties which ordinary
mortals are apt to consider their especial monopoly - he
was married, and had one child. What is more strange
yet, his wife was a daughter of quiet, sober, unfantastic.
England ; she was much younger than himself ; she was
fair and gentle, with a sweet English face : she had mar-
ried him from choice, and (will you believe it ?) she yet
3*
30 ZANONI .

loved him. How she came to marry him, or how this shy,
unsocial, wayward creature ever ventured to propose, I
can only explain by asking you to look round and explain
first to me how half the husbands and half the wives you
meet ever found a mate ! Yet, on reflection, this union
was not so extraordinary after all. The girl was a natu-
ral child of parents too noble ever to own and claim her.
She was brought into Italy to learn the art by which she
was to live, for she had taste and voice ; she was a de-
pendant, and harshly treated ; and poor Pisani was her
master, and his voice the only one she had heard from
her cradle, that seemed without one tone that could scorn
or chide. And so - well, is the rest natural ? Natural
or not, they married . This young wife loved her hus-
band ; and young and gentle as she was, she might al-
most be said to be the protector of the two. From how
many disgraces with the despots of San Carlo and the
Conservatorio had her unknown officious mediation saved
him ! In how many ailments-for his frame was weak—
had she nursed and tended him ! Often , in the dark nights,
she would wait at the theatre, with her lantern to light
him, and her steady arm to lean on ; - otherwise, in his
abstract reveries, who knows but the musician would have
walked after his " Siren " into the sea ! And then she
would so patiently, perhaps (for in true love there is not
always the finest taste ) so delightedly listen to those
storms of eccentric and fitful melody, and steal him-
whispering praises all the way from the unwholesome
night-watch to rest and sleep ! I said his music was a
 ZANONI. 31

part of the man, and this gentle creature seemed a part

of the music ; it was, in fact, when she sat beside him,
that whatever was tender or fairy-like in his motley fan-
tasia crept into the harmony as by stealth. Doubtless
her presence acted on the music, and shaped and softened
it ; but he, who never examined how or what his inspi-
ration, knew it not. All that he knew was, that he loved
and blessed her. He fancied he told her so twenty times
a day ; but he never did, for he was not of many words,
even to his wife. His language was his music, as hers—
her cares ! He was more communicative to his barbiton,
as the learned Mersennus teaches us to call all the varie-
ties of the great viol family. Certainly barbiton sounds
better than fiddle ; and barbiton let it be . He would
talk to that by the hour together - praise it-scold it--
coax it, nay (for such is man, even the most guileless) ,
he had been known to swear at it ; but for that excess he
was always penitentially remorseful. And the barbiton
had a tongue of his own, could take his own part, and
He was
when he also scolded , had much the best of it.
a noble fellow, this Violin ! a Tyrolese, the handiwork of
the illustrious Steiner. There was something mysterious
in his great age . How many hands, now dust, had awa-
kened his strings ere he became the Robin Goodfellow
and Familiar of Gaetano Pisani ! His very case was
venerable ; beautifully painted , it was said, by Caracci.
An English collector had offered more for the case than
Pisani had ever made by the violin . But Pisani, who
cared not if he had inhabited a cabin himself, was proud
32 ZANONI .

of a palace for the barbiton. His barbiton, it was his

elder child ! He had another child, and now we must
turn to her.
How shall I describe thee, Viola ? Certainly the music
had something to answer for in the advent of that young
stranger. For both in her form and her character you
might have traced a family likeness to that singular and
spirit-like life of sound which night after night threw it-
self in airy and goblin sport over the starry seas. . . .Beau-
tiful she was, but of a very uncommon beauty— a combi-
nation, a harmony of opposite attributes. Her hair of a
gold richer and purer than that which is seen even in the
north ; but the eyes, of all the dark, tender, subduing
light of more than Italian - almost of oriental- splendor.
The complexion exquisitely fair, but never the same—
vivid in one moment, pale the next. And with the com-
plexion, the expression also varied ; nothing now so sad,
and nothing now so joyous.
I grieve to say that what we rightly entitle education
was much neglected for their daughter by this singular
pair. To be sure, neither of them had much knowledge
to bestow ; and knowledge was not then the fashion , as
it is now. But accident or nature favored young Viola.
She learned, as of course, her mother's language with
her father's. And she contrived soon to read and to
write ; and her mother, who, by the way, was a Roman
Catholic, taught her betimes to pray. But then, to
counteract all these acquisitions, the strange habits of
Pisani, and the incessant watch and care which he re-
 ZANONI . ຽວ

quired from his wife, often left the child alone with an old
nurse ; who, to be sûre, loved her dearly, but who was in
no way calculated to instruct her. Dame Gionetta was

every inch Italian and Neapolitan. Her youth had been

all love, and her age was all superstition . She was gar-

rulous, fonda gossip . Now she would prattle to the

girl of cavaliers and princes at her feet, and now she
would freeze her blood with tales and legends, perhaps
as old as Greek or Etrurian fable of demon and vam-
pire of the dances round the great walnut-tree at Bene-
vento, and the haunting spell of the Evil Eye. All this
helped silently to weave charmed webs over Viola's im-
agination, that after-thought and later years might labor
vainly to dispel. And all this especially fitted her to
hang, with a fearful joy, upon her father's music. Those
visionary strains, ever struggling to translate into wild
and broken sounds the language of unearthly beings ,
breathed around her from her birth. Thus you might
have said that her whole mind was full of music-— asso-
ciations, memories, sensations of pleasure or pain , all
were mixed up inexplicably with those sounds that now
delighted and now terrified - that greeted her when her

eyes opened to the sun, and woke her trembling on her

lonely couch in the darkness of the night The legends
and tales of Gionetta only served to make the child better
understand the signification of those mysterious tones ;
they furnished her with words to the music. It was natu-
ral that the daughter of such a parent should soon evince
some taste in his art. But this developed itself chiefly
 O
34 ZANONI .

in the ear and the voice. She was yet a child when she
sang divinely. A great Cardinal -great alike in the state
and the Conservatorio - heard of her gifts, and sent for
her. From that moment her fate was decided she was
to be the future glory of Naples, the prima donna of San
Carlo. The Cardinal insisted upon the accomplishment
of his own predictions, and provided her with the most
renowned masters . To inspire her with emulation , his
Eminence took her one evening to his own box : it would
be something to see the performance , something more to
hear the applause lavished upon the glittering signoras
she was hereafter to excel ! Oh, how gloriously that Life
of the Stage -that fairy World of Music and Song,
dawned upon her ! It was the only world that seemed to
correspond with her strange childish thoughts . It ap-
peared to her as if, cast hitherto on a foreign shore, she
was brought at last to see the forms and hear the lan-
guage of her native land. Beautiful and true enthusiasm ,
rich with the promise of Genius ! Boy or man , thou wilt
never be a poet, if thou hast not felt the ideal, the ro-
mance, the Calypso's isle that opened to thee, when for
the first time, the magic curtain was drawn aside, and let
in the World of Poetry on the World of Prose !
And now the initiation was begun. She was to read,
to study, to depict by a gesture, a look, the passions she
was to delineate on the boards ; lessons dangerous, in
truth, to some, but not to the pure enthusiasm that comes
from Art ; for the mind that rightly conceives Art, is but
a mirror, which gives back what is cast on its surface
 O
ZANONI . 35

faithfully only while unsullied . She seized on nature

and truth intuitively. Her recitations became full of un-
conscious power ; her voice moved the heart to tears, or
warmed it into generous rage. But this arose from that
sympathy which genius ever has, even in its earliest inno-
cence, with whatever feels, or aspires, or suffers. It was
no premature woman comprehending the love or the
jealousy that the words expressed ; her art was one of
those strange secrets which the psychologists may un-
riddle to us if they please, and tell us why children of the
simplest minds and the purest hearts are often so acute
to distinguish, in the tales you tell them, or the songs you
sing, the difference between the true Art and the False-
Passion and Jargon - Homer and Racine ; - echoing
back, from hearts that have not yet felt what they repeat,
the melodious accents of the natural pathos . Apart from
her studies, Viola was a simple, affectionate, but some-
what wayward child ; wayward, not in temper, for that
was sweet and docile, but in her moods, which, as I before
hinted, changed from sad to gay and gay to sad without
an apparent cause . If cause there were, it must be traced
to the early and mysterious influences I have referred to,
when seeking to explain the effect produced on her imagi-
nation by those restless streams of sound that constantly
played around it : for it is noticeable, that to those who
are much alive to the effects of music, airs and tunes often
come back, in the commonest pursuits of life, to vex, as
it were, and haunt them . The music , once admitted to
the soul, becomes also a sort of spirit, and never dies
36 ZANONI .

It wanders perturbedly through the halls and galleries of

the memory, and is often heard again , distinct and living
as when it first displaced the wavelets of the air. Now
at times, then, these phantoms of sound floated back upon
her fancy ; if gay, to call a smile from every dimple ; if
mournful, to throw a shade upon her brow-to make her
cease from her childish mirth, and sit apart and muse.
Rightly, then, in a typical sense, might this fair crea-
ture, so airy in her shape, so harmonious in her beauty,
-
so unfamiliar in her ways and thoughts, — rightly might
she be called a daughter, less of the Musician than the
Music - a being for whom you could imagine that some
fate was reserved , less of actual life than the romance
which, to eyes that can see, and hearts that can feel, glides
ever along with the actual life, stream by stream, to the
Dark Ocean.
And therefore it seemed not strange that Viola herself,
even in childhood, and yet more as she bloomed into the
sweet seriousness of virgin youth, should fancy her life
ordained for a lot, whether of bliss or woe, that should
accord with the romance and reverie which made the
atmosphere she breathed. Frequently she would climb
.
through the thickets that clothed the neighboring grotto
of Posilipo -the mighty work of the old Cimmerians, — -

and, seated by the haunted Tomb of Virgil, indulge those

visions, the subtle vagueness of which no poetry can render
palpable and defined : - for the Poet that surpasses all
who ever sung - -is the Heart of dreaming Youth ! Fre-
quently there, too , beside the threshold over which the
 ZANONI . 37

vine-leaves clung, and facing that dark-blue , waveless sea,

she would sit in the autumn noon or summer twilight, and
build her castles in the air. Who doth not do the same

-not in youth alone, but with the dimmed hopes of age !

It is man's prerogative to dream, the common royalty of
peasant and of king. But those day-dreams of hers were
more habitual, distinct, and solemn, than the greater part
of us indulge. They seemed like the Orama of the Greeks
-- prophets while phantasma.

CHAPTER II .

Fu stupor, fu vaghezza, fu diletto ! *

GERUSAL. LIB., cant. ii. xxi.

Now at last the education is accomplished ! Viola is

nearly sixteen. The Cardinal declares that the time is
come when the new name must be inscribed in the Libro
d'Oro - the Golden Book set apart to the children of
Art and Song. Yes, but in what character ?—to whose
genius is she to give embodiment and form ? Ah, there
is the secret ! Rumors go abroad that the inexhaustible
Paisiello , charmed with her performance of his Nel cor
più non me sento, and his Io son Lindoro, will produce
some new master -piece to introduce the débutante. Others
insist upon it that her forte is the comic, and that Cima-

* " Desire it was, ' twas wonder, ' twas delight. "-WIFFEN's trans-
lation.
I. - -4
38 ZANONI.

rosa is hard at work at another Matrimonio Segreto. But

in the meanwhile there is a check in the diplomacy some-
where. The Cardinal is observed to be out of humor.
He has said publicly- and the words are portentous —
" The silly girl is as mad as her father - what she asks
is preposterous ! " Conference follows conference - the
Cardinal talks to the poor child very solemnly in his closet
-all in vain. Naples is distracted with curiosity and
conjecture . The lecture ends in a quarrel, and Viola
comes home sullen and pouting : she will not act — she
has renounced the engagement .
Pisani, too inexperienced to be aware of all the dangers
of the stage, had been pleased at the notion that one, at
least, of his name, would add celebrity to his art. The
girl's perverseness displeased him. However, he said
-
nothing he never scolded in words, but he took up the
faithful barbiton. Oh, faithful barbiton, how horribly
thou didst scold ! It screeched - it gabbled -it moaned
-it growled. And Viola's eyes filled with tears, for she
understood that language. She stole to her mother, and
whispered in her ear ; and when Pisani turned from his
employment, lo ! both mother and daughter were weeping.
He looked at them with a wondering stare ; and then, as
if he felt he had been harsh, he flew again to his Familiar.
And now you thought you heard the lullaby which a fairy
might sing to some fretful changeling it had adopted and
sought to soothe. Liquid , low, silvery, streamed the
tones beneath the enchanted bow. The most stubborn
grief would have paused to hear ; and withal, at times,
 ZANONI. 39

out came a wild , merry, ringing note, like a laugh ; but

not mortal laughter. It was one of his most successful
airs from his beloved opera - the Siren in the act of
charming the waves and the winds to sleep . Heaven
knows what next would have come, but his arm was
arrested. Viola had thrown herself on his breast, and
kissed him, with happy eyes that smiled through her sunny
hair. At that very moment the door opened - a message
from the Cardinal . Viola must go to his Eminence at
'once. Her mother went with her. All was reconciled
and settled ; Viola had her way, and selected her own
opera. 0 ye dull nations of the North, with your broils
and debates - your bustling lives of the Pnyx and the

Agora -you cannot guess what a stir throughout musi-

cal Naples was occasioned by the rumor of a new opera
and a new singer. But whose the opera ? No cabinet
intrigue ever was so secret. Pisani came back one night
from the theatre, evidently disturbed and irate. Woe to
thine ears hadst thou heard the barbiton that night !
They had suspended him from his office -they feared that
the new opera , and the first début of his daughter as
prima donna, would be too much for his nerves. And

his variations, his diablerie of sirens and harpies, on such

a night, made a hazard not to be contemplated without
awe . To be set aside, and on the very night that his
child, whose melody was but an emanation of his own, was
to perform - set aside for some new rival- it was too much
for a musician's flesh and blood . For the first time he

spoke in words upon the subject, and gravely asked - for

 40 ZANONI .

that question the barbiton, eloquent as it was, could not

express distinctly -what was to be the opera, and what
the part ? And Viola as gravely answered that she was
pledged to the Cardinal not to reveal. Pisani said nothing,
but disappeared with the violin ; and presently they heard
the Familiar from the house-top (whither, when thoroughly
out of humor, the Musician sometimes fled ), whining and
sighing as if its heart were broken .
The affections of Pisani were little visible on the sur-
face. He was not one of those fond , caressing fathers
whose children are ever playing round their knees ; his
mind and soul were so thoroughly in his art, that domestic
life glided by him, seemingly as if that were a dream, and
the heart the substantial form and body of existence.
Persons much cultivating an abstract study are often thus ;
mathematicians proverbially so. When his servant ran
to the celebrated French philosopher, shrieking, " The
house is on fire, sir ! " " Go and tell my wife then, fool !"
said the wise man, settling back to his problems ; " do I
ever meddle with domestic affairs ?" But what are mathe-
matics to music,-music, that not only composes operas,
but plays on the barbiton ? Do you know what the illus-
trious Giardini said when the tyro asked how long it
would take to learn to play on the violin ? Hear, and
despair, ye who would bend the bow to which that of
Ulysses was a plaything- " Twelve hours a day for twenty
years together ! " Can a man, then, who plays the bar-
biton be always playing also with his little ones ? No,
Pisani ! often, with the keen susceptibility of childhood,
 ZANONI . 41

poor Viola had stolen from the room to weep at the

thought that thou didst not love her. And yet, under-
neath this outward abstraction of the artist, the natural
fondness flowed all the same ; and as she grew up, the
dreamer had understood the dreamer. And now, shut
out from all fame himself to be forbidden to hail even
his daughter's fame ! —and that daughter herself to be in
the conspiracy against him ! Sharper than the serpent's
tooth was the ingratitude , and sharper than the serpent's
tooth was the wail of the pitying barbiton !
The eventful hour is come. Viola is gone to the
theatre her mother with her. The indignant musician
remains at home. Gionetta bursts into the room my
Lord Cardinal's carriage is at the door-the Padrone is
sent for. He must lay aside his violin- he must put on
his brocade coat and his lace ruffles . Here they are ——
quick, quick ! And quick rolls the gilded coach, and
majestic sits the driver, and statelily prance the steeds.
Poor Pisani is lost in a mist of uncomfortable amaze.
He arrives at the theatre -he descends at the great door
he turns round and round, and looks about him and
about he misses something-Where is the violin ? Alas !
his soul, his voice, his self of self, is left behind ! It is
but an automaton that the lackeys conduct up the stairs ,
through the tier, into the Cardinal's box. But then ,
what bursts upon him ! -Does he dream ? The first act
is over (they did not send for him till success seemed no
longer doubtful) , the first act has decided all. He feels
that, by the electric sympathy which every the one heart
42 ZANONI .

has at once with a vast audience. He feels it by the

breathless stillness of that multitude- he feels it even by
the lifted finger of the Cardinal. He sees his Viola on
the stage, radiant in her robes and gems - he hears her
voice thrilling through the single heart of the thousands !
But the scene- the part- the music ! It is his other child
-his immortal child - the spirit-infant of his soul- his
darling of many years of patient obscurity and pining
genius his master-piece- his opera of the Siren !
This, then, was the mystery that had so galled him-
this the cause of the quarrel with the Cardinal— this the
secret not to be proclaimed till the success was won, and
the daughter had united her father's triumph with her
own !
And there she stands, as all souls bow before her -
fairer than the very Siren he had called from the deeps
of melody. Oh ! long and sweet recompense of toil !
Where is on earth the rapture like that which is known
to genius when at last it bursts from its hidden cavern
into light and fame !
He did not speak - he did not move — he stood trans-
fixed, breathless-the tears rolling down his cheeks : only
from time to time his hands still wandered about - me-
chanically they sought for the faithful instrument- why
was it not there to share his triumph ?
At last the curtain fell ; but on such a storm — aud
diapason of applause ! Up rose the audience as one man
as with one voice that dear name was shouted. She
came on- trembling, pale- and in the whole crowd saw
 ZANONI . 43

but her father's face. The audience followed those moist-

ened eyes - they recognized with a thrill the daughter's
impulse and her meaning. The good old Cardinal drew
him gently forward - Wild musician ! thy daughter has
given thee back more than the life thou gavest !
66
' My poor violin ! " said he, wiping his eyes-"they will
never hiss thee again now ! "

CHAPTER III .

Fra si contrarie tempre in ghiaccio e in foco,

In riso e in pianto, e fra paura e speme
L'ingannatrice Donna -- *
GERUSAL. LIB. , cant. iv. xciv.

Now, notwithstanding the triumph both of the singer

and the opera, there had been one moment in the first
act, and, consequently, before the arrival of Pisani, when
the scale seemed more than doubtful. It was in a chorus
replete with all the peculiarities of the composer. And
when this Maelstrom of Capricci whirled and foamed , and
tore ear and sense through every variety of sound , the
audience simultaneously recognized the hand of Pisani.
A title had been given to the opera, which had hitherto
prevented all suspicion of its parentage ; and the overture
and opening, in which the music had been regular and

* Between such contrarious mixtures of ice and fire, laughter

and tears, - fear and hope, the deceiving dame--
44 ZANONI .

sweet, had led the audience to fancy they detected the

genius of their favorite Paisiello. Long accustomed to
ridicule and almost to despise the pretensions of Pisani
as a composer, they now felt as if they had been unduly
cheated into the applause with which they had hailed the
overture and the commencing scenas. An ominous buzz
circulated round the house ; - - the singers, the orchestra
- electrically sensitive to the impression of the audience
-grew, themselves, agitated and dismayed, and failed in
the energy and precision which could alone carry off the
grotesqueness of the music.
There are always in every theatre many rivals to a new
author, and a new performer-a party impotent while all
goes well- but a dangerous ambush the instant some ac-
cident throws into confusion the march of success. A hiss
arose ; it was partial, it is true, but the significant silence
of all applause seemed to forebode the coming moment
when the displeasure would grow contagious . It was the
breath that stirred the impending avalanche. At that
critical moment -- Viola, the Siren queen, emerged for the
first time from her ocean cave. As she came forward to

the lamps, the novelty of her situation, the chilling apathy

of the audience which even the sight of so singular a
-
beauty did not at the first arouse the whispers of the
malignant singers on the stage, the glare of the lights,
and more far more than the rest- that recent hiss, which
had reached her in her concealment, all froze up her fac-
ulties and suspended her voice. And instead of the grand
invocation into which she ought rapidly to have burst,
 ZANONI . 45

the regal Siren, re-transformed into the trembling girl,

stood pale and mute before the stern, cold array of those
countless eyes .

At that instant, and when consciousness itself seemed

about to fail her-as she turned a timid beseeching glance
around the still multitude - she perceived, in a box near
the stage, a countenance which at once , and like magic ,
produced on her mind an effect never to be analyzed nor
forgotten. It was one that awakened an indistinct, haunt-
ing reminiscence, as if she had seen it in those day-dreams
she had been so wont from infancy to indulge. She could
not withdraw her gaze from that face, and as she gazed ,
the awe and coldness that had before seized her, vanished
like a mist from before the sun .

In the dark splendor of the eyes that met her own,

there was indeed so much of gentle encouragement, of
benign and compassionate admiration ; so much that
warmed, and animated , and nerved ; that any one.--actor
or orator - who has ever observed the effect that a single
earnest, and kindly look, in the crowd that is to be
addressed and won, will produce upon his mind, may
readily account for the sudden and inspiriting influence
which the eye and smile of the stranger exercised on the
débutante.
And while yet she gazed , and the glow returned to her
heart, the stranger half rose, as if to recall the audience
to a sense of the courtesy due to one so fair and young ;
and the instant his voice gave the signal, the audience
followed it by a burst of generous applause . For this
46 ZANONI .

stranger himself was a marked personage, and his recent

arrival at Naples had divided with the new opera the
-
gossip of the city. And then as the applause ceased –
clear, full, and freed from every fetter - like a spirit from
the clay the Siren's voice poured forth its entrancing
music. From that time, Viola forgot the crowd, the
hazard, the whole world -except the fairy one over which
she presided. It seemed that the stranger's presence
only served still more to heighten that delusion , in which
the artist sees no creation without the circle of his art ;
she felt as if that serene brow, and those brilliant eyes,
inspired her with powers never known before : and, as if
searching for a language to express the strange sensations
occasioned by his presence, that presence itself whispered
to her the melody and the song.
Only when all was over, and she saw her father and
felt his joy, did this wild spell vanish before the sweeter
one of the household and filial love. Yet again, as she
turned from the stage, she looked back involuntarily, and
the stranger's calm and half-melancholy smile sunk into
her heart - to live there - to be recalled with confused
memories, half of pleasure and half of pain.
Pass over the congratulations of the good Cardinal
Virtuoso, astonished at finding himself and all Naples
had been hitherto in the wrong on a subject of taste,-
still more astonished at finding himself and all Naples
combining to confess it ; pass over the whispered ecsta-
cies of admiration which buzzed in the singer's ear, as
once more, in her modest veil and quiet dress, she escaped
 ZANONI. 47

from the crowd of gallants that choked up every avenue

behind the scenes ; pass over the sweet embrace of father
and child, returning through the star- lit streets and along
the deserted Chiaja in the Cardinal's carriage ; never
pause now to note the tears and ejaculations of the good,
simple-hearted mother • • see them returned - see the
well-known room, venimus ad larem nostrum *—— see old
Gionetta bustling at the supper ; and hear Pisani , as he
rouses the barbiton from its case, communicating all that
has happened to the intelligent Familiar ; hark to the
mother's merry, low, English laugh, -Why, Viola, strange
child, sittest thou apart, thy face leaning on thy fair
hands, thine eyes fixed on space ? Up, rouse thee ! Every
dimple on the cheek of home must smile to-night . †
And a happy reunion it was round that humble table ;
a feast Lucullus might have envied in his Hall of Apollo,
in the dried grapes, and the dainty sardines, and the
luxurious polenta, and the old lácrina, a present from the
good Cardinal. The barbiton, placed on a chair—a tall,
high-backed chair - beside the musician, seemed to take
a part in the festive meal. Its honest varnished face
glowed in the light of the lamp ; and there was an imp-
ish, sly demureness in its very silence, as its master,
between every mouthful, turned to talk to it of something
he had forgotten to relate before. The good wife looked
on affectionately, and could not eat for joy ; but suddenly

* We come to our own house.

+ Ridete quidquid est Domi cachinnorum .
CATULL. ad Sirm. Penin.
48 ZANONI .

she rose, and placed on the artist's temples a laurel

wreath, which she had woven beforehand in fond antici-
pation ; and Viola, on the other side her brother, the
barbiton, rearranged the chaplet, and smoothing back her
father's hair, whispered, " Caro Padre, you will not let
him scold me again ! "
Then poor Pisani, rather distracted between the two,
and excited both by the lácrina and his triumph , turned
to the younger child with so naïve and grotesque a pride,
" I don't know which to thank the most. You give me
so much joy, child , - I am so proud of thee and myself.
But he and I, poor fellow, have been so often unhappy
together ! "
Viola's sleep was broken ; - that was natural. The
intoxication of vanity and triumph, the happiness in the
happiness she had caused, all this was better than sleep.
But still from all this, again and again her thoughts flew
to those haunting eyes, to that smile with which for ever
the memory of the triumph, of the happiness, was to be
united . Her feelings, like her own character, were strange
and peculiar. They were not those of a girl whose
heart, for the first time, reached through the eye, sighs
its natural and native language of first love. It was not
so much admiration , though the face that reflected itself
on every wave of her restless fancies was of the rarest
order of majesty and beauty ; nor a pleased and en-
amoured recollection that the sight of this stranger had
bequeathed ; it was a human sentiment of gratitude and
delight, mixed with something more mysterious, of fear
 ZANONI . 49

and awe. Certainly she had seen before those features ;

but when and how ? only when her thoughts had sought
to shape out her future, and when in spite of all the
attempts to vision forth a fate of flowers and sunshine, a
dark and chill foreboding made her recoil back into her
deepest self. It was a something found that had long
been sought for by a thousand restless yearnings and
vague desires, less of the heart than mind ; not as when
youth discovers the one to be beloved, but rather as
when the student, long wandering after the clue to some
truth in science, sees it glimmer dimly before him, to
beckon, to recede, to allure, and to wane again. She fell
at last into unquiet slumber, vexed by deformed, fleeting,
shapeless phantoms ; and , waking, as the sun, through a
veil of hazy cloud, glinted with a sickly ray across the
casement, she heard her father settled back betimes to
his one pursuit, and calling forth from his Familiar a low
mournful strain, like a dirge over the dead .
"And why, " she asked , when she descended to the room
below, " why, my father, was your inspiration so sad ,
after the joy of last night ? "
" I know not, child. I meant to be merry, and compose
an air in honor of thee : but he is an obstinate fellow,
this, and he would have it so . "

I.- 5
50 ZANONI

CHAPTER IV.

E così i pigri e timidi desiri

Sprona. *
GERUSAL. LIB. , cant. iv. lxxxviii.

IT was the custom of Pisani, except when the duties

of his profession made special demand on his time, to
devote a certain portion of the mid-day to sleep ; a habit
not so much a luxury as a necessity, to a man who slept
very little during the night. In fact, whether to compose
or to practise, the hours of noon were precisely those in
which Pisani could not have been active if he would.
His genius resembled those fountains full at dawn and
evening, overflowing at night, and perfectly dry at the
meridian. During this time, consecrated by her husband
to repose, the Signora generally stole out to make the
purchases necessary for the little household , or to enjoy,
as what woman does not, a little relaxation in gossip with
some of her own sex. And the day following this bril-
liant triumph, how many congratulations would she have
to receive !
At these times it was Viola's habit to seat herself
without the door of the house, under an awning which
sheltered from the sun, without obstructing the view ;
and there now, with the prompt-book on her knee, on
* And thus the slow and timid passions urged.
 ZANONI . 51

which her eye roves listlessly from time to time, you may
behold her, the vine-leaves clustering from their arching
trellis over the door behind , and the lazy white- sailed
boats skimming along the sea that stretched before.
As she thus sat, rather in reverie than thought, a man
coming from the direction of Posilipo , with a slow step
and downcast eyes, passed close by the house, and Viola
looking up abruptly, started in a kind of terror as she
recognized the stranger. She uttered an involuntary
exclamation, and the cavalier turning, saw, and paused .
He stood a moment or two between her and the sunlit
ocean, contemplating in a silence too serious and gentle
for the boldness of gallantry, the blushing face and the
young slight form before him : at length he spoke.
"Are you happy, my child, " he said, in almost a paternal
tone, " at the career that lies before you ? From sixteen
to thirty, the music in the breath of applause is sweeter
than all the music your voice can utter ! "
"I know not," replied Viola, falteringly, but encouraged
by the liquid softness of the accents that addressed her.
" I know not whether I am happy now, but I was last
night. And I feel, too , Excellency, that I have you to
thank, though, perhaps, you scarce know why ! "
'You deceive yourself, " said the cavalier, with a smile.
" I am aware that I assisted to your merited success, and
it is you who scarce know how. The why I will tell you :
because I saw in your heart a nobler ambition than that
of the woman's vanity ; it was the daughter that interested
me. Perhaps you would rather I should have admired
the singer ? "
52 ZANONI .

"No ; oh, no ! "

Well, I believe you. And now, since we have thus
met, I will pause to counsel you. When next you go to the
theatre, you will have at your feet all the young gallants
of Naples. Poor infant ! the flame that dazzles the eye
can scorch the wing. Remember that the only homage
that does not sully, must be that which these gallants
will not give thee. And whatever thy dreams of the
future and I see, while I speak to thee, how wandering
they are, and wild — may only those be fulfilled which
centre round the hearth of home ! "
He paused, as Viola's breast heaved beneath its robe.
And with a burst of natural and innocent emotions,
scarcely comprehending, though an Italian, the grave
nature of his advice, she exclaimed-
"Ah, Excellency, you cannot know how dear to me
that home is already. And my father - - there would be
no home, Signor, without him ! "
A deep and melancholy shade settled over the face of
the cavalier. He looked up at the quiet house buried
amidst the vine-leaves, and turned again to the vivid,
animated face of the young actress.
" It is well," said he. "A simple heart may be its own
best guide, and so, go on, and prosper. Adieu, fair
singer. "
"Adieu, Excellency ; but, " and something she could
not resist - an anxious, sickening feeling of fear and
-
hope impelled her to the question, " I shall see you
again, shall I not, at San Carlo ? "
 ZANONI . 53

" Not, at least, for some time. I leave Naples to

day."
" Indeed ! " and Viola's heart sunk within her : the
poetry of the stage was gone.
"And," said the cavalier, turning back, and gently
laying his hand on hers " and perhaps, before we meet,
you may have suffered ; — known the first sharp griefs
of human life ; --known how little what fame can gain,
repays what the heart can lose ; but be brave and yield
not not even to what may seem the piety of sorrow.
Observe yon tree in your neighbor's garden. Look how
it grows up, crooked and distorted . Some wind scat-

tered the germ , from which it sprung, in the clefts of the

rock ; choked up and walled round by crags and buildings,
by nature and man, its life has been one struggle for the
light ; light which makes to that life, the necessity and
the principle : you see how it has writhed and twisted
how, meeting the barrier in one spot, it has labored and
worked, stem and branches, towards the clear skies at
last. What has preserved it through each disfavor of
birth and circumstances - why are its leaves as green
and fair as those of the vine behind you , which , with all
its arms, can embrace the open sunshine ? My child,
because of the very instinct that impelled the struggle -
because the labor for the light won to the light at length.
So with a gallant heart, through every adverse accident
of sorrow, and of fate, to turn to the sun, to strive for
the heaven ; this it is that gives knowledge to the strong,
and happiness to the weak. Ere we meet again, you will
5*
 54 ZANONI .

turn sad and heavy eyes to those quiet boughs, and when
you hear the birds sing from them, and see the sunshine
come aslant from crag and house-top to be the playfellow
of their leaves, learn the lesson that Nature teaches you ,
and strive through darkness to the light ! "
As he spoke he moved on slowly, and left Viola won-
dering-silent- saddened with his dim prophecy of com-
ing evil, and yet, through sadness, charmed . Involuntarily
her eyes followed him involuntarily she stretched forth.
her arms, as if by a gesture to call him back ; she would
have given worlds to have seen him turn- to have heard
once more his low, calm, silvery voice, - to have felt
again the light touch of his hand on hers. As moonlight
that softens into beauty every angle on which it falls ,
seemed his presence, as moonlight vanishes, and things
assume their common aspect of the rugged and the mean
-he receded from her eyes, —and the outward scene was
commonplace once more.
The stranger passed on, through that long and lovely
road which reaches at last the palaces that face the public
gardens, and conducts to the more populous quarters of
the city.
A group of young, dissipated courtiers, loitering by
the gateway of a house which was open for the favorite
pastime of the day- the resort of the wealthier and more
high-born gamesters -- made way for him, as with a cour-
teous inclination he passed them by.
"Per fede," said one, " is not that the rich Zanoni, of
whom the town talks ? "
4
 ZANONI . 55

"Ay- they say his wealth is incalculable ! "

"L
They say - who are they ? —what is the authority ?
He has not been many days at Naples, and I cannot yet
find any one who knows aught of his birth- place, his pa-
rentage, or, what is more important, his estates ! "
" That is true ; but he arrived in a goodly vessel, which
they say is his own. See-no , you cannot see it here,—
but it rides yonder in the bay. The bankers he deals with,
speak with awe of the sums placed in their hands. "
" Whence came he ? "
" From some sea-port in the East. My valet learned
from some of the sailors on the Mole that he had resided
many years in the interior of India. "
""
' Ah, I am told that in India men pick up gold like
pebbles, and that there are valleys where the birds build
their nests with emeralds to attract the moths . Here
comes our prince of gamesters, Cetoxa ; be sure that he
already must have made acquaintance with so wealthy a
cavalier ; he has that attraction to gold which the magnet
has to steel. Well, Cetoxa, what fresh news of the ducats
of Signor Zanoni ? "
" Oh, " said Cetoxa, carelessly, " my friend "
26 Ha ha ! hear him ― - his friend 99
66
' Yes ; my friend Zanoni is going to Rome for a short
time ; when he returns, he has promised me to fix a day
to sup with me, and I will then introduce him to you, and
to the best society of Naples ! Diavolo ! but he is a most
99
agreeable and witty gentleman !
'Pray tell us how you came so suddenly to be his
"
friend. "
56 ZANONI .

" My dear Belgioso , nothing more natural. He desired

a box at San Carlo ; but I need not tell you that the ex-
pectation of a new opera (ah, how superb it is, —that
poor devil, Pisani - who would have thought it ? ) and a
new singer - ( what a face - what a voice ! - ah ! ) had
engaged every corner of the house. I heard of Zanoni's
desire to honor the talent of Naples, and, with my usual
courtesy to distinguished strangers, I sent to place my
box at his disposal. He accepts it, — I wait on him be-
tween the acts, he is most charming, he invites me to
supper. -Cospetto, what a retinue ! We sit late,-I tell
him all the news of Naples, - we grow bosom friends,—
he presses on me this diamond before we part, — - it is a

trifle, he tells me, -

— the jewellers value it at 5000 pistoles !
-the merriest evening I have passed these ten years. "
The cavaliers crowded round to admire the diamond.
""
Signor Count Cetoxa, " said one grave-looking sombre
man, who had crossed himself two or three times during
the Neapolitan's narrative, " are you not aware of the
strange reports about this person ; and are you not afraid
to receive from him a gift which may carry with it the
most fatal consequences ? Do you not know that he is
said to be a sorcerer- to possess the mal-occhio -to-
" Prithee, spare us your antiquated superstitions, " in-
terrupted Cetoxa, contemptuously. " They are out of
fashion nothing now goes down but skepticism and phi-
losophy. And what, after all, do these rumors, when
sifted, amount to ? They have no origin but this - a silly
old man of eighty-six, quite in his dotage, solemnly avers
 ZANONI . 57

that he saw this same Zanoni seventy years ago ― (he

himself, the narrator, then a mere boy) -at Milan . When
this very Zanoni, as you all see, is at least as young as
you or I, Belgioso. "
" But that," said the grave gentleman, " that is the
mystery. Old Avelli declares that Zanoni does not seem
a day older than when they met at Milan . He says that
even then at Milan -- mark this- where, though under
another name, this Zanoni appeared in the same splendor,
he was attended also by the same mystery. And that an
old man there remembered to have seen him sixty years
before, in Sweden . "
" Tush , " returned Cetoxa, "the same thing has been
said of the quack Cagliostro -mere fables. I will believe
them when I see this diamond turn to a wisp of hay.
For the rest " (he added gravely) " I consider this illus
trious gentleman my friend ; and a whisper against his
honor and repute will, in future, be equivalent to an
affront to myself. "
Cetoxa was a redoubted swordsman , and excelled in a
peculiarly awkward manoeuvre, which he himself had
added to the variations of the stoccata. The grave gen-
tleman, however anxious for the spiritual weal of the
Count, had an equal regard for his own corporeal safety.
He contented himself with a look of compassion, and,
turning through the gateway, ascended the stairs to the
gaming-tables.
" Ha, ha ! " said Cetoxa, laughing, " our good Lore-
dano is envious of my diamond. Gentlemen, you sup
58 ZANONI .

with me to-night. I assure you I never met a more de-

lightful, sociable, entertaining person - than my dear
friend the Signor Zanoni. "

CHAPTER V.

Quello Ippogifo, grande e strano augello

Lo porta via.*
ORL. FUR. , C. vi. xviii.

AND now, accompanying this mysterious Zanoni, am I

compelled to bid a short farewell to Naples. Mount
behind me-mount on my hippogriff, reader- settle your-
self at your ease. I bought the pillion the other day of a
poet who loves his comfort ; it has been newly stuffed for
your special accommodation. So, so , we ascend ! Look
as we ride aloft - look ! - never fear, hippogriffs never
stumble ; and every hippogriff in Italy is warranted to
carry elderly gentlemen- look down on the gliding land-
scapes ! There, near the ruins of the Oscan's old Atella,
rises Aversa, once the stronghold of the Norman ; there
gleam the columns of Capua, above the Vulturnian Stream .
Hail to ye, corn -fields and vineyards famous for the old
Falernian ! Hail to ye, golden orange-groves of Mola
di Gaeta ! Hail to ye, sweet shrubs and wild flowers,
omnis copia narium , that clothe the mountain skirts of
the silent Lautulæ ! Shall we rest at the Volscian Anxur

* That hippogriff, great and marvellous bird, bears him away.

 ZANONI . 59

-the modern Terracina- where the lofty rock stands like

the giant that guards the last borders of the southern land
of Love ? Away, away ! and hold your breath as we flit
above the Pontine Marshes. Dreary and desolate , their
miasma is to the gardens we have passed what the rank
commonplace of life is to the heart when it has left love
behind . Mournful Campagna, thou openest on us in
majestic sadness . Rome, seven-hilled Rome ! receive us
as Memory receives the wayworn ; receive us in silence,
amidst ruins ! Where is the traveller we pursue ? Turn
the hippogriff loose to graze : he loves the acanthus that
wreathes round yon broken columns. Yes, that is the
Arch of Titus, the conqueror of Jerusalem , - that the
Colosseum ! Through one passed the triumph of the
deified invader in one fell the butchered gladiators.
Monuments of murder, how poor the thoughts, how mean
the memories ye awaken, compared with those that speak
to the heart of man on the heights of Phyle, or by thy
lone mound , grey Marathon ! We stand amidst weeds,
and brambles, and long waving herbage. Where we stand
reigned Nero ― here were his tesselated floors ; here
" Mighty in the Heaven, a second Heaven,"
hung the vault of his ivory roofs — here, arch upon arch,
pillar upon pillar , glittered to the world the golden palace
of its master - -the Golden House of Nero. How the
lizard watches us with his bright timorous eye ! We
disturb his reign . Gather that wild flower : the Golden
House is vanished- but the wild flower may have kin to
those which the stranger's hand scattered over the tyrant's
•

60 ZANONI .

grave ; -see, over this soil, the grave of Rome, Nature

strews the wild flowers still !

In the midst of this desolation is an old building of the

middle ages . Here dwells a singular Recluse. In the
·
season of the malaria, the native peasant flies the rank
vegetation round ; but he, a stranger and a foreigner,
breathes in safety the pestilential air. He has no friends,
no associates, no companions, except books and instru-
ments of science. He is often seen wandering over the
grass-grown hills, or sauntering through the streets of
the new city, not with the absent brow and incurious air
of students, but with observant, piercing eyes, that seem
to dive into the hearts of the passers-by. An old man,
but not infirm -erect and stately, as if in his prime. None
know whether he be rich or poor. He asks no charity,
and he gives none- -he does no evil, and seems to confer
no good . He is a man who appears to have no world
beyond himself ; but appearances are deceitful ; and Sci-
ence, as well as Benevolence, lives in the Universe. This
abode, for the first time since thus occupied, a visitor
enters. It is Zanoni.
You observe those two men seated together, conversing
earnestly. Years long and many have flown away since
they met last— at least, bodily, and face to face. But if
they are sages, thought can meet thought, and spirit
spirit, though oceans divide the forms. Death itself
divides not the wise. Thou meetest Plato when thine
eyes moisten over the Phædo. May Homer live with all
men for ever !
 ZANONI . 61

They converse- they confess to each other-they con-

jure up the past, and re-people it ; but note how differ-
ently do such remembrances affect the two. On Zanoni's
face, despite its habitual calm, the emotions change and
go. He has acted in the past he surveys ; but not a trace
of the humanity that participates in joy and sorrow can
be detected on the passionless visage of his companion ;
the Past, to him, as is now the Present, has been but as
nature to the sage, the volume to the student-― a calm
and spiritual life a study - a contemplation.
From the Past, they turn to the Future. Ah ! at the
close of the last century, the Future seemed a thing tan-
gible it was woven up in all men's fears and hopes of
the Present.
At the verge of that hundred years , Man , the ripest-
born of Time, * stood as at the death-bed of the Old
World, and beheld the New Orb, blood -red amidst cloud
and vapor, - uncertain if a comet or a sun. Behold the
icy and profound disdain on the brow of the old man
the lofty yet touching sadness that darkens the glorious
countenance of Zanoni. Is it that one views with con-
tempt the struggle and its issue, and the other with awe
or pity ? Wisdom contemplating mankind leads but to
the two results -compassion or disdain . He who believes
in other worlds can accustom himself to look on this as
the naturalist on the revolutions of an ant-hill, or of a

* An des Jahrhunderts Neige,

Der reifste Sohn der Zeit.
DIE KÜNSTLER.
I. — 6
62 ZANONI .

leaf What is the Earth to Infinity- what its duration

to the Eternal ? Oh, how much greater is the soul of
one man than the vicissitudes of the whole globe ! Child
of heaven, and heir of immortality, how from some star
hereafter wilt thou look back on the ant -hill and its com-
motious, from Clovis to Robespierre, from Noah to the
Final Fire. The spirit that can contemplate, that lives
only in the intellect, can ascend to its star, even from the
midst of the Burial- ground called Earth, and while the
Sarcophagus called Life immures in its clay the Everlast-
ing !
But thou, Zanoni - thou hast refused to live only in
the intellect-- thou hast not mortified the heart - thy
pulse still beats with the sweet music of mortal passion
-thy kind is to thee still something warmer than an
abstraction - thou wouldst look upon this Revolution in
its cradle, which the storms rock - thou wouldst see the
world while its elements yet struggle through the chaos !
Go !
 ZANONI . 63
e

CHAPTER VI .

Précepteurs ignorans de ce faible univers. *

VOLTAIRE.

Nous étions à table chez un de nos confrères à l'Académie, Grand

Seigneur et homme d'esprit.† - LA HARPE.

ONE evening, at Paris, several months after the date

of our last chapter, there was a reunion of some of the
most eminent wits of the time, at the house of a person-
age distinguished alike by noble birth and liberal accom-
plishments. Nearly all present were of the views that
were then the mode. For , as came afterwards a time
when nothing was so unpopular as the people, so that
was the time when nothing was so vulgar as aristocracy.
The airiest fine gentleman and the haughtiest noble prated
of equality, and lisped enlightenment.
Among the more remarkable guests were Condorcet,
then in the prime of his reputation, the correspondent of
the king of Prussia , the intimate of Voltaire, the member
of half the academies of Europe- noble by birth, polished
in manners, republican in opinions. There, too, was the
venerable Malesherbes, "l'amour et les délices de la

* Ignorant teachers of this weak world.

We supped with one of our confreres of the Academy ; a great
nobleman and wit.
64 ZANONI .

Nation. " There Jean Silvain Bailly, the accomplished

scholar - the aspiring politician . It was one of those
petits soupers for which the capital of all social pleasures
was so renowned. The conversation , as might be ex-
pected , was literary and intellectual, enlivened by grace-
ful pleasantry. Many of the ladies of that ancient and
proud noblesse - for the noblesse yet existed, though its
hours were already numbered .-- added to the charm of
the society ; and theirs were the boldest criticisms, and
often the most liberal sentiments.
Vain labor for me -G vain labor almost for the grave

English language, to do justice to the sparkling para-

doxes that flew from lip to lip. The favorite theme was
the superiority of the Moderns to the Ancients . Con-
dorcet on this head was eloquent, and to some, at least,
of his audience, most convincing. That Voltaire was
greater than Homer, few there were disposed to deny.
Keen was the ridicule lavished on the dull pedantry which
finds everything ancient necessarily sublime .
"Yet," said the graceful marquis de , as the cham-
pagne danced to his glass, 66 more ridiculous still is the
superstition that finds everything incomprehensible holy !
But intelligence circulates, Condorcet ; like water, it finds
its level. My hairdresser said to me this morning, ' Though
I am but a poor fellow, I believe as little as the finest
gentleman ! ' "
"Unquestionably, the great Revolution draws near to

* The idol and delight of the nation ( so called by his historian,

Gaillard).
 ZANONI . 65

its final completion -à pas de géant, as Montesquieu said

of his own immortal work. "
Then there rushed from all. wit and noble, courtier
and republicana confused chorus, harmonious only in
its anticipation of the brilliant things to which " the
great Revolution " was to give birth . Here Condorcet
is more eloquent than before.
" Il faut absolument que la Superstition et le Fana-
tisme fassent place à la philosophie. * Kings persecute
persons, priests opinion . Without kings, men must be
safe ; and without priests, minds must be free. "
“Ah, ” murmured the marquis, " and as ce cher Diderot
has so well sung -

" Et des boyaux du dernier prêtre

Serrez le cou du dernier roi. ' ” †
"And then," resumed Condorcet "then commences

the Age of Reason ! -equality in instruction - equality

in institutions - equality in wealth ! The great impedi-
ments to knowledge are, first, the want of a common
language ; and next, the short duration of existence.
But as to the first, when all men are brothers , why not
an universal language ? As to the second , the organic
perfectibility of the vegetable world is undisputed : is
Nature less powerful in the nobler existence of thinking
man ? The very destruction of the two most active causes

* It must necessarily happen that superstition and fanaticism

give place to philosophy.
† And throttle the neck of the last king, with a string from the
bowels of the last priest.
6* E
66 ZANONI .

of physical deterioration- here, luxurious wealth,—there ,

abject penury-must necessarily prolong the general term
of life. * The art of medicine will then be honored in

the place of war, which is the art of murder : the noblest

study of the acutest minds will be devoted to the dis-
covery and arrest of the causes of disease. Life, I grant,
cannot be made eternal ; but it may be prolonged almost
indefinitely. And as the meaner animal bequeathes its
vigor to its offspring, so man shall transmit his improved
organization, mental and physical, to his sons. O yes,
to such a consummation does our age approach ! "
The venerable Malesherbes sighed . Perhaps he feared
the consummation might not come in time for him . The
handsome marquis de and the ladies, yet handsomer
than he, looked conviction and delight.
But two men there were, seated next to each other,
who joined not in the general talk ; the one a stranger
newly arrived in Paris, where his wealth, his person, and
his accomplishments, had already made him remarked
and courted ; the other, an old man, somewhere about
seventy the witty and virtuous, brave and still light-
hearted Cazotte , the author of Le Diable Amoureux.
These two conversed familiarly, and apart from the
rest, and only by an occasional smile testified their atten-
tion to the general conversation.
"Yes," said the stranger " yes, we have met be-
fore. "

* See Condorcet's posthumous work on the Progress of the Human

Mind. - ED.
 ZANONI . 67

" I thought I could not forget your countenance ; yet

I task in vain my recollections of the past. "
"I will assist you . Recall the time when, led by
curiosity, or perhaps the nobler desire of knowledge , you
sought initiation into the mysterious order of Martines
de Pasquales . " *
“Ah ! is it possible ! You are one of that theurgic
brotherhood ? "
" Nay, I attended their ceremonies but to see how vainly
they sought to revive the ancient marvels of the cabala. "
"
Such studies please you ? I have shaken off the in-
fluence they once had on my own imagination . "

It is so recorded of Cazotte. Of Martines de Pasqualis little

is known ; even the country to which he belonged is matter of con-
jecture. Equally so the rites, ceremonies, and nature of the caba-
listic order he established . St. Martin was a disciple of the school,
and that, at least, is in its favor ; for in spite of his mysticism, no
man more beneficent, generous, pure, and virtuous, than St. Martin ,
adorned the last century. Above all, no man more distinguished
himself from the herd of skeptical philosophers by the gallantry
and fervor with which he combated materialism, and vindicated
the necessity of faith amidst a chaos of unbelief. It may also be
observed, that Cazotte, whatever else he learned of the brother-
hood of Martines, learned nothing that diminished the excellence
of his life and the sincerity of his religion . At once gentle and
brave, he never ceased to oppose the excesses of the Revolution .
To the last, unlike the Liberals of his time, he was a devout and
sincere Christian. Before his execution, he demanded a pen and
paper, to write these words : " Ma femme, mes enfans, ne me
pleurez pas ; ne m'oubliez pas, mais souvenez-vous surtout de ne
jamais offenser Dieu. " ( a) - ED.

(a) My wife, my children, weep not for me ; forget me not, but

remember above everything never to offend God.
68 ZANONI .

" You have not shaken it off," returned the stranger

gravely ; " it is on you still-on you at this hour ; it beats
in your heart ; it kindles in your reason ; it will speak
in your tongue ! "
And then with a yet lower voice, the stranger continued
to address him, to remind him of certain ceremonies and
doctrines, - to explain and enforce them by references to
the actual experience and history of his listener, which
Cazotte thrilled to find so familiar to a stranger.
Gradually the old man's pleasing and benevolent coun-
tenance grew overcast, and he turned , from time to time,
searching, curious, uneasy glances , towards his companion.
The charming duchess de Garchly pointed out to
the lively guests the abstracted air and clouded brow of
the poet ; and Condorcet, who liked no one else to be
remarked when he himself was present, said to Cazotte ,
Well, and what do you predict of the Revolution ---
how, at least, will it affect us ? "
At that question, Cazotte started ― his cheeks grew
pale, large drops stood on his forehead-his lips writhed .
His gay companions gazed on him in surprise .
66
Speak ! " whispered the stranger, laying his hand
gently upon the arm of the old wit.
At that word, Cazotte's face grew locked and rigid ,
his eyes dwelt vacantly on space, and in a low, hollow
voice, he thus answered . *

* The following prophecy ( not unfamiliar, perhaps, to some of

my readers) , with some slight variations, and at greater length, in
the text of the authority I am about to cite, is to be found in Ia
 ZANONI . 69

" You ask how it will affect yourselves, -you , its most
learned, and its least selfish agents. I will answer ; you,
marquis de Condorcet, will die in prison, but not by the
hand of the executioner. In the peaceful happiness of
that day, the philosopher will carry about with him, not
the elixir, but the poison. "
" My poor Cazotte," said Condorcet, with his gentle
smile, " what have prisons, executioners, and poison , to
do with an age of liberty and brotherhood ? "
1
" It is in the names of Liberty and Brotherhood that
the prisons will reek, and the headsman be glutted . "
" You are thinking of priestcraft, not philosophy,
Cazotte," said Champfort. * "And what of me ? "
" You will open your own veins to escape the fraternity
of Cain. Be comforted ; the last drops will not follow
the razor . For you, venerable Malesherbes, - for you,
Aimar Nicolaï , - - for you, learned Bailly, - I see them
dress the scaffold ! And all the while, O great philoso-
phers, your murderers will have no word but philosophy
on their lips ! "
Harpe's posthumous Works. The MS. is said to exist still in La
Harpe's hand-writing, and the story is given on M. Petitot's au-
thority, vol. i. p. 62. It is not for me to inquire if there be doubts
of its foundation on fact. -ED.
* Champfort, one of those men of letters , who , though misled
bythe first fair show of the Revolution, refused to follow the baser
men of action into its horrible excesses, lived to express the mur-
derous philanthropy of its agents by the best bon mot of the time.
Seeing written on the walls, " Fraternité ou la Mort, " he observed
that the sentiment should be translated thus- " Sois mon frère, ou
je te tue." (a)

(a) " Be my brother, or I kill thee."

70 ZANONI .

The bush was complete and universal when the pupil

of Voltaire the prince of the academic skeptics , hot
La Harpe-cried , with a sarcastic laugh, " Do not flatter
me, O prophet, by exemption from the fate of my com-
panions. Shall I have no part to play in this drama of
your phantasies ? ”
At this question, Cazotte's countenance lost its un-
natural expression of awe and sternness : the sardonic
humor most common to it came back and played in his
brightening eyes.
""
'Yes, La Harpe, the most wonderful part of all ! You
will become - a Christian ! "
This was too much for the audience that a moment
before seemed grave and thoughtful, and they burst into
an immoderate fit of laughter, while Cazotte, as if ex-
hausted by his predictions, sunk back in his chair, and
breathed hard and heavily.
" Nay," said Madame de G , " you who have pre-
dicted such grave things concerning us, must prophesy .
something also about yourself. "
A convulsive tremor shook the involuntary prophet ; -
it passed , and left his countenance elevated by an ex-
pression of resignation and calm. " Madame," said he,
after a long pause, " during the siege of Jerusalem, we
are told by its historian that a man, for seven successive

days, went round the ramparts, exclaiming, "Woe to

thee, Jerusalem, woe to myself ! "
"Well, Cazotte, well ? "
"And on the seventh day, while he thus spoke, a stone
 ZANONI . 71

from the machines of the Romans dashed him into

atoms !"
With these words Cazotte arose ; and the guests, awed
in spite of themselves, shortly afterwards broke up and
retired.

CHAPTER VII .

Qui donc t'a donné la mission s'annoncer au peuple que la divinité

n'existe pas quel avantage trouves-tu à persuader à l'homme
qu'une force aveugle préside à ses destinées et frappe au hasard
le crime et la vertu ? * - ROBESPIERRE, Discours, Mai 7 , 1794.

It was some time before midnight when the stranger

returned home. His apartments were situated in one of
those vast abodes which may be called an epitome of
Paris itself. The cellars rented by mechanics, scarcely
removed a step from paupers, often by outcasts and
fugitives from the law, often by some daring writer,
who, after scattering amongst the people doctrines the
most subversive of order, or the most libellous on the
characters of priest, minister, and king - retired amongst
the rats, to escape the persecution that attends the vir-
tuous the ground - floor occupied by shops-the entresol

* Who then invested you with the mission to announce to the

people that there is no God ? -
— what advantage find you in per-
suading man that nothing but blind force presides over his destinies,
and strikes haphazard both crime and virtue ?
72 ZANONI .

by artists ― the principal stories by nobles - and the

garrets by journeymen or grisettes.
As the stranger passed up the stairs, a young man of a
form and countenance singularly unprepossessing, emerged
from a door in the entresol, and brushed beside him . His
glance was furtive, sinister, savage, and yet timorous ;
the man's face was of an ashen paleness, and the features
worked convulsively. The stranger paused, and observed
him with thoughtful looks, as he hurried down the stairs.
While he thus stood, he heard a groan from the room
which the young man had just quitted ; the latter had
pulled to the door with hasty vehemence, but some frag-
ment, probably of fuel, had prevented its closing, and it
now stood slightly ajar ; the stranger pushed it open and
entered. He passed a small ante-room, meanly furnished,
and stood in a bed-chamber of meagre and sordid dis-
comfort. Stretched on the bed, and writhing in pain,
lay an old man ; a single candle lit the room, and threw
its feeble ray over the furrowed and death-like face of the
sick person. No attendant was by ; he seemed left alone
to breathe his last. " Water," he moaned, feebly-
" water - -I parch — I burn ! "The intruder approached
.6
the bed, bent over him, and took his hand - ' Oh, bless
thee, Jean, bless thee ! " said the sufferer ; " hast thou
brought back the physician already ? Sir, i
I am poor,
but I can pay you well. I would not die yet, for that
young man's sake. " And he sat upright in his bed, and
fixed his dim eyes anxiously on his visitor.
""
'What are your symptoms, your disease ? "
 1933
ZANONI . 78

" Fire- fire- fire in the heart, the entrails-I burn ! ”

" How long is it since you have taken food ? "
" Food ! only this broth. There is the basin, all I have
taken these six hours. I had scarce drunk it ere these
pains began."
The stranger looked at the basin : some portion of the
contents was yet left there.
"Who administered this to you ? "
"Who ? Jean ! Who else should ? I have no servant
-none ! I am poor, very poor, sir. But no ! you
physicians do not care for the poor. I am rich ! can
you cure me ? "
" Yes, if Heaven permit. Wait but a few moments. "
The old man was fast sinking under the rapid effects
of poison. The stranger repaired to his own apartments,
and returned in a few moments with some preparation
that had the instant result of an antidote. The pain
ceased, the blue and livid color receded from the lips ;
the old man fell into a profound sleep. The stranger
drew the curtains round the bed, took up the light, and
inspected the apartment. The walls of both rooms were
hung with drawings of masterly excellence. A portfolio
was filled with sketches of equal skill : but these last
were mostly subjects that appalled the eye and revolted
the taste they displayed the human figure in every
variety of suffering — the rack, the wheel, the gibbet, all
that cruelty has invented to sharpen the pangs of death,
seemed yet more dreadful from the passionate gusto and
earnest force of the designer. And some of the counte-
I.— 7
 74 ZANONI .

nances of those thus delineated were sufficiently removed

from the ideal to show that they were portraits ; in a
large, bold, irregular hand, was written beneath these
drawings, " The Future of the Aristocrats. " In a corner
of the room, and close by an old bureau , was a small
bundle, over which, as if to hide it, a cloak was thrown
carelessly. Several shelves were filled with books ; these
were almost entirely the works of the philosophers of
the time the philosophers of the material school, espe-
cially the Encyclopédistes, whom Robespierre afterwards
so singularly attacked , when the coward deemed it unsafe
to leave his reign without a God. * A volume lay on a
table ― it was one of Voltaire, and the page was opened
at his argumentative assertion of the existence of the
Supreme Being. † The margin was covered with pen-
cilled notes, in the stiff but tremulous hand of old age ;

* Cette secte (les Encyclopédistes) propagea avec beaucoup de

zèle l'opinion du matérialisme, qui prévalut parmi les grands et
parmi les beaux esprits ; on lui doit en partie cette espèce de phi-
losophie pratique qui, reduisant l'Egoisme en système, regarde la
société humaine comme une guerre de ruse, le succès comme la •
règle du juste et de l'injuste, la probité comme une affaire de goût,
ou de bienséance, le monde comme le patrimoine des friponsa
droits. (a) - DISCOURS DE ROBESPIERRE, Mai 7, 1794.
† Histoire de Jenni.

(a) This sect (the Encyclopædists) propagate with much zeal the
doctrine of materialism, which prevails among the great and the
wits ; we owe to it, partly, that kind of practical philosophy which,
reducing Egotism to a system, looks upon society as a war of
cunning - success the rule of right or wrong - honesty as an
affair of taste or decency - and the world as the patrimony of
clever scoundrels.

44
44
 ZANONI . 75

all in attempt to refute or to ridicule the logic of the

sage of Ferney : Voltaire did not go far enough for the
annotator ! The clock struck two, when the sound of
steps was heard without. The stranger silently seated
himself on the farther side of the bed, and its drapery
screened him, as he sat, from the eyes of a man who now
entered on tiptoe ; it was the same person who had
passed him on the stairs. The new comer took up the
candle and approached the bed . The old man's face was
turned to the pillow ; but he lay so still , and his breath-
ing was so inaudible, that his sleep might well, by that
hasty, shrinking, guilty glance, be mistaken for the repose
of death . The new comer drew back, and a grim smile
passed over his face : he replaced the candle on the table,
opened the bureau with a key which he took from his
pocket, and loaded himself with several rouleaus of gold,
that he found in the drawers. At this time the old man
began to wake. He stirred , he looked up ; he turned his
eyes towards the light now waning in its socket ; he saw
the robber at his work ; he sat erect for an instant, as if
transfixed, more even by astonishment than terror. At
last he sprang from his bed
" Just Heaven ! do I dream ! Thou- thou-thou for
whom I toiled and starved ! — Thou ! "
The robber started ; the gold fell from his hand, and
rolled on the floor.
" What ! " he said , " art thou not dead yet ? Has the
poison failed ? "
"Poison, boy ! Ah ! " shrieked the old man, and cov-
76 ZANONI .

ered his face with his hands ; then, with sudden energy,
he exclaimed, " Jean ! Jean ! recall that word . Rob,
plunder me if thou wilt, but do not say thou couldst mur-
der one who only lived for thee ! There, there, take the
gold ; I hoarded it but for thee. Go - go ! " and the old
man, who, in his passion, had quitted his bed, fell at the
feet of the foiled assassin, and writhed on the ground-
the mental agony more intolerable than that of the body,
which he had so lately undergone. The robber looked at
him with a hard disdain.
" What have I ever done to thee, wretch ? " cried the
old man, " what but loved and cherished thee ? Thou
wert an orphan-an outcast. I nurtured, nursed , adopt-
ed thee as my son. If men call me a miser, it was but
that none might despise thee, my heir, because nature has
stunted and deformed thee, when I was no more. Thou
wouldst have had all when I was dead. Couldst thou not
spare me a few months or days - nothing to thy youth,
all that is left to my age ? What have I done to thee ? "
" Thou hast continued to live, and thou wouldst make
no will."
" Mon Dieu ! Mon Dieu !
" Ton Dieu ! Thy God ! Fool ! Hast thou not told
me, from my childhood , that there is no God ? Hast thou
not fed me on philosophy ? Hast thou not said , ‘ Be
virtuous, be good , be just, for the sake of mankind ; but
there is no life after this life ? ' Mankind ! why should I
love mankind ? Hideous and mis-shapen, mankind jeer
 ZANONI . 77

at me as I pass the streets. What hast thou done to me ?

Thou hast taken away from me, who am the scoff of this
world, the hopes of another ! Is there no other life ?
Well, then, I want thy gold, that at least I may hasten
to make the best of this ! "
" Monster ! Curses light on thy ingratitude, thy————”
" And who hears thy curses ? Thou knowest there is
no God ! Mark me : I have prepared all to fly. See-
I have my passport ; my horses wait without ; relays are
ordered. I have thy gold. " (And the wretch, as he
spoke , continued coldly to load his person with the rou-
leaus. ) "And now, if I spare thy life, how shall I be
sure that thou wilt not inform against mine ? " He ad-
vanced with a gloomy scowl and a menacing gesture as
he spoke.
The old man's anger changed to fear. He cowered
before the savage . " Let me live ! let me live !-that-
that. 99

" That what ? "

" I may pardon thee ! Yes, thou hast nothing to fear

from me. I swear it ! "
" Swear ! But by whom and what, old man ? I can-
not believe thee, if thou believest not in any God ! Ha,
ha behold the result of thy lessons. "
Another moment, and those murderous fingers would
have strangled their prey. But between the assassin and
his victim rose a form that seemed almost to both a visi-
tor from the world that both denied- stately with majes-
tic strength, glorious with awful beauty.
7*
78 ZANONI.

The ruftan recoiled , looked , trembled, and then turned

and fled from the chamber. The old man fell again to
the ground insensible.

CHAPTER VIII .

To know how a bad man will act when in power, reverse all the
doctrines he preaches when obscure. - S. Montague.
Antipathies also form a part of magic (falsely) so called. Man
naturally has the same instinct as the animals ; which warns
them involuntarily against the creatures that are hostile or fatal
to their existence. But he so often neglects it, that it becomes
dormant. Not so the true cultivator of The Great Science, &c.
TRISMEGISTUS THE FOURTH. (A Rosicrucian. )

WHEN he again saw the old man the next day, the
stranger found him calm, and surprisingly recovered from
the scene and sufferings of the night. He expressed his
gratitude to his preserver with tearful fervor, and stated
that he had already sent for a relation, who would make
arrangements for his future safety and mode of life.
" For I have money yet left, " said the old man ; “ and
henceforth have no motive to be a miser." He proceeded
then briefly to relate the origin and circumstances of his
connection with his intended murderer.
It seems that in earlier life he had quarrelled with
his relations from a difference in opinions of belief.
Rejecting all religion as a fable, he yet cultivated feelings
that inclined him. -- for though his intellect was weak,
his dispositions were good - to that false and exagger-
ated sensibility which its dupes so often mistake for
 ZANONI . 79

benevolence. He had no children ; he resolved to adopt

an enfant du peuple. He resolved to educate this boy
according to " Reason. " He selected an orphan of the
lowest extraction, whose defects of person and constitu-
tion only yet the more moved his pity, and finally engrossed
his affection. In this outcast he not only loved a son,
he loved a theory ! He brought him up most philosophi-
cally. Helvetius had proved to him that education can
do all ; and before he was eight years old , the little Jean's
favorite expressions were - “ La lumière et la vertu. " *
The boy showed talents, especially in art. The protector
sought for a master who was as free from " superstition "
as himself, and selected the painter David . That person ,
as hideous as his pupil, and whose dispositions were as
vicious as his professional abilities were undeniable, was
certainly as free from " superstition " as the protector
could desire. It was reserved for Robespierre hereafter
to make the sanguinary painter believe in the Etre
Suprême. The boy was early sensible of his ugliness,
which was almost preternatural. His benefactor found
it in vain to reconcile him to the malice of nature by his
philosopical aphorisms ; but when he pointed out to him
that in this world money, like charity, covers a multitude
of defects, the boy listened eagerly and was consoled.
To save money for his protégé - for the only thing in
the world he loved this became the patron's passion.
Verily, he had met with his reward.
"But I am thankful he has escaped , " said the old man,

* Light and virtue.

80 ZANONI.

wiping his eyes. " Had he left me a beggar, I could

never have accused him. "
" No, for you are the author of his crimes."
" How ! I, who never ceased to inculcate the beauty
of virtue ? Explain yourself. "
"Alas, if thy pupil did not make this clear to thee last
night from his own lips, an angel might come from heaven
to preach to thee in vain. "
The old man moved uneasily, and was about to reply,
when the relative he had sent for, and who, a native of
Nancy, happened to be at Paris at the time - entered
the room . He was a man somewhat past thirty, and of
a dry, saturnine, meagre countenance, restless eyes, and
compressed lips . He listened, with many ejaculations of
horror, to his relation's recital, and sought earnestly, but
in vain, to induce him to give information against his
protégé.
•6
Tush, tush, René Dumas ! " said the old man, " you
are a lawyer. You are bred to regard human life with
contempt. Let any man break a law, and you shout-
' Execute him ! ""
" I " cried Dumas, lifting up his hands and eyes :
"venerable sage, how you misjudge me ! I lament more
than any one the severity of our code. I think the state
never should take away life no, not even the life of a
murderer. I agree with that young statesman - Maxi-
milien Robespierre- that the executioner is the invention.
of the tyrant. My very attachment to our advancing
revolution is, that it must sweep away this legal butchery. "
 ZANONI . 81

The lawyer paused, out of breath. The stranger

regarded him fixedly, and turned pale.
" You change countenance, sir, " said Dumas ; " you
do not agree with me."
"
' Pardon me, I was at that moment repressing a vague
fear which seemed prophetic. "
'And that --——— " I
"Was that we should meet again, when your opinions
on Death and the Philosophy of Revolutions might be
different ."
"Never ! "
" You enchant me, cousin Réné," said the old man ,
who had listened to his relation with delight. "Ah, I
see you have proper sentiments of justice and philanthropy.
Why did I not seek to know you before ? You admire
the Revolution ? — you , equally with me, detest the bar-
barity of kings, and the fraud of priests ? "
" Detest ! How could I love mankind if I did not ? "
"And," said the old man , hesitatingly, " you do not
think, with this noble gentleman, that I erred in the
precepts I instilled into that wretched man ? "
" Erred ! Was Socrates to blame if Alcibiades was
an adulterer and a traitor ? "
" You hear him ― you hear him ! But Socrates had
also a Plato ; henceforth you shall be a Plato to me.
You hear him ? " exclaimed the old man, turning to the
stranger.
But the latter was at the threshold. Who shall argue
F
 82 ZANONI.

with the most stubborn of all bigotries -- the fanaticism

of unbelief?
" Are you going ? " exclaimed Dumas, " and before I
have thanked you, blessed you, for the life of this dear
and venerable man ? Oh, if ever I can repay you-if ever
you want the heart's blood of René Dumas ! " Thus
volubly delivering himself, he followed the stranger to the
threshold of the second chamber, and there, gently de-
taining him, and after looking over his shoulder, to be
sure that he was not heard by the owner, he whispered,
"I ought to return to Nancy. One would not lose one's
time ; -you don't think, sir, that that scoundrel took away
all the old fool's money ?"
" Was it thus Plato spoke of Socrates , Monsieur Du-
mas ? "
" Ha, ha !—you are caustic. Well, you have a right.
Sir, we shall meet again. "
" AGAIN ! " muttered the stranger, and his brow dark-
ened. He hastened to his chamber, he passed the day
and the night alone, and in studies, no matter of what
nature, they served to increase his gloom.
What could ever connect his fate with Réné Dumas ?
or the fugitive assassin ? Why did the buoyant air of
Paris seem to him heavy with the steams of blood ?—why
did an instinct urge him to fly from those sparkling cir-
cles, from that focus of the world's awakened hopes,
warning him from return ? -he, whose lofty existence
defied - but away these dreams and omens ! He leaves
France behind. Back, O Italy, to thy majestic wrecks !
4
74
47
 ZANONI . 83

On the Alps his soul breathes the free air once more.
Free air ! Alas, let the world -healers exhaust their
chemistry ; Man never shall be as free in the market-place
as on the mountain . But we, reader, we too, escape from
these scenes of false wisdom clothing godless crime.
Away, once more
" In den heitern Regionen
Wo die reinen Formen wohnen."

Away, to the loftier realm where the pure dwellers are.

Unpolluted by the Actual, the Ideal lives only with Art
and Beauty. Sweet Viola, by the shores of the blue Par-
thenope, by Virgil's tomb, and the Cimmerian cavern we
return to thee once more.

CHAPTER IX .

Che non vuol che ' l destrier più vada in alto,

Poi lo lega nel margine marino
un verde mirto in mezzo un lauro e un pino. *
ORL. FUR., c. vi. xxiii.

O MUSICIAN ! art thou happy now ? Thou art re-in-

stalled at thy stately desk - thy faithful barbiton has its
share in the triumph. It is thy master- piece which fills
thy ear-it is thy daughter who fills the scene - the music ,

* As he did not wish that his charger (the hippogriff) should

take any further excursions into the higher regions for the present,
he bound him at the sea- shore to a green myrtle between a laurel
and a pine.
84 ZANONI .

the actress so united, that applause to one is applause to

both. They make way for thee at the orchestra - they
no longer jeer and wink, when, with a fierce fondness,
thou dost caress thy Familiar, that plains, and wails, and
chides, and growls, under thy remorseless hand. They
understand now how irregular is ever the symmetry of
real genius. The inequalities in its surface make the
moon luminous to man. Giovanni Paisiello, Maestro di
Capella, if thy gentle soul could know envy, thou must
sicken to see thy Elfrida and thy Pirro laid aside, and all
Naples turned fanatic to the Siren, at whose measures
shook querulously thy gentle head ! But thou, Paisiello,
calm in the long prosperity of fame, knowest that the
New will have its day, and comfortest thyself that the
Elfrida and the Pirro will live for ever. Perhaps a mis-
take, but it is by such mistakes that true genius conquers
envy. " To be immortal, " says Schiller, "live in the
whole. " To be superior to the hour, live in thy self-
esteem . The audience now would give their ears for
those variations and flights they were once wont to hiss.
No -Pisani has been two -thirds of a life at silent work
on his master- piece : there is nothing he can add to that,
however he might have sought to improve on the master-
pieces of others. Is not this common ? The least little
critic , in reviewing some work of art, will say, " pity this,
and pity that ; " "this should have been altered - that
omitted. " Yea, with his wiry fiddle-string will he creak
out his accursed variations. But let him sit down and

compose himself. He sees no improvement in variations

 ZANONI . 85

then ! Every man can control his fiddle when it is his

own work with which its vagaries would play the devil.
And Viola is the idol the theme of Naples. She is
the spoiled sultana of the boards. To spoil her acting
may be easy enough - shall they spoil her nature ? No,
I think not. There, at home, she is still good and sim-
ple ; and there, under the awning by the door-way- there
she still sits, divinely musing. How often , crook-trunked
tree, she looks to thy green boughs ; how often , like thee,
in her dreams and fancies, does she struggle for the light ;
- Not the light of the stage-lamps. Pooh, child ! be
contented with the lamps, even with the rush-lights. A
farthing candle is more convenient for household purposes
than the stars.
Weeks passed , and the stranger did not re-appear :
months had passed, and his prophecy of sorrow was not
yet fulfilled . One evening Pisani was taken ill. His
success had brought on the long-neglected composer
pressing applications for concerti and sonata, adapted to
his more peculiar science on the violin. He had been
employed for some weeks, day and night, on a piece in
which he hoped to excel himself. He took, as usual , one
of those seemingly impracticable subjects which it was his
pride to subject to the expressive powers of his art - -the
terrible legend connected with the transformation of
Philomel. The pantomime of sound opened with the gay
merriment of a feast. The monarch of Thrace is at his
banquet ; a sudden discord brays through the joyous
notes-- the string seems to screech with horror. The
I.- 8
86 ZANONI .

king learns the murder of his son by the hands of the

avenging sisters. Swift rage the chords, through the
passions of fear, of horror, of fury, and dismay. The
father pursues the sisters . Hark ! what changes the
dread the discord - into that long, silvery, mournful
music ? The transformation is completed ; and Philomel,
now the nightingale, pours from the myrtle- bough the full,
liquid, subduing notes that are to tell evermore to the
world the history of her woes and wrongs. Now, it was
in the midst of this complicated and difficult attempt that
the health of the over-tasked musician , excited alike by
past triumph and new ambition , suddenly gave way. He
was taken ill at night. The next morning the doctor
pronounced that his disease was a malignant and infec-
tious fever. His wife and Viola shared in their tender
watch ; but soon that task was left to the last alone. The
Signora Pisani caught the infection, and in a few hours
was even in a state more alarming than that of her hus-
band . The Neapolitans, in common with the inhabitants
of all warm climates , are apt to become selfish and brutal
in their dread of infectious disorders. Gionetta herself
pretended to be ill, to avoid the sick chamber. The whole
labor of love and sorrow fell on Viola. It was a terrible
trial -— I am willing to hurry over the details. The wife
died first !
One day, a little before sunset, Pisani woke partially
recovered from the delirium which had preyed upon him,
with few intervals, since the second day of the disease ;
and casting about him his dizzy and feeble eyes, he re-
 ZANONI . 8

cognized Viola, and smiled . He faltered her name as he

rose and stretched his arms. She fell upon his breast ,
and strove to suppress her tears.
"Thy mother ? " he said . " Does she sleep ? "
-
" She sleeps ah, yes ! " and the tears gushed forth.
" I thought - eh ! I know not what I have thought.
But do not weep-I shall be well now- quite well . She
will come to me when she wakes ― -will she ? "

Viola could not speak ; but she busied herself in pour-

ing forth an anodyne, which she had been directed to
give the sufferer as soon as the delirium should cease.
The doctor had told her, too , to send for him the instant
so important a change should occur.
She went to the door, and called to the woman, who,
during Gionetta's pretended illness, had been induced to
supply her place ; but the hireling answered not. She
flew through the chambers to search for her in vain—the
hireling had caught Gionetta's fears, and vanished . What
was to be done ? The case was urgent-the doctor had
declared not a moment should be lost in obtaining his
attendance ; she must leave her father—she must go her-
self! She crept back into the room- the anodyne seemed
already to have taken benign effect the patient's eyes
were closed, and he breathed regularly, as in sleep . She
stole away, threw her veil over her face, and hurried from
the house.

Now, the anodyne had not produced the effect which

it appeared to have done ; instead of healthful sleep , it
had brought on a kind of light-headed somnolence, in
88 ZANONI.

which the mind, preternaturally restless, wandered about

its accustomed haunts, waking up its old familiar instincts
and inclinations. It was not sleep-it was not delirium ;
it was the dream- wakefulness which opium sometimes in-
duces, when every nerve grows tremulously alive, and
creates a corresponding activity in the frame, to which it
gives a false and hectic vigor. Pisani missed something
what, he scarcely knew ; it was a combination of the
two wants most essential to his mental life -the voice of
his wife, the touch of his Familiar. He rose - he left
his bed - he leisurely put on his old dressing- robe, in
which he had been wont to compose. He smiled com-

placently as the associations connected with the garment

came over his memory ; he walked tremulously across the
room , and entered the small cabinet next to his chamber,
in which his wife had been accustomed more often to
watch than sleep, when illness separated her from his
side. The room was desolate and void. He looked

round wistfully, and muttered to himself, and then pro-

ceeded regularly, and with a noiseless step, through the
chambers of the silent house, one by one.
He came at last to that in which old Gionetta , —faith-
ful to her own safety, if nothing else-nursed herself, in
the remotest corner of the house, from the danger of in-
fection. As he glided in - wan , emaciated , with an uneasy,
anxious , searching look in his haggard eyes- the old
woman shrieked aloud , and fell at his feet. He bent over
her, passed his thin hands along her averted face, shook
his head, and said in a hollow voice —
"I cannot find them ; where are they ? "
 ZANONI . 89

"Who, dear master ? Oh, have compassion on your-

self ; they are not here. Blessed saints ! this is terrible :
he has touched me : I am dead ! "
" Dead ! who is dead ? Is any one dead ? "
"Ah ! don't talk so ; you must know it well : my poor
mistress- she caught the fever from you ; it is infectious
enough to kill a whole city. San Gennaro, protect me !
My poor mistress -she is dead - buried , too ; and I , your
faithful Gionetta, woe is me ! Go , go-to- to bed again,
dearest master - go ! "
The poor musician stood for one moment mute and
unmoving, then a slight shiver ran through his frame ;
he turned and glided back, silent and spectre-like, as he
had entered . He came into the room where he had been
accustomed to compose- where his wife, in her sweet
patience , had so often sat by his side , and praised and
flattered when the world had but jeered and scorned . In
one corner he found the laurel- wreath she had placed on
his brows that happy night of fame and triumph ; and
near it, half hid by her mantilla , lay in its case the
neglected instrument .
Viola was not long gone ; she had found the physician ;
she returned with him ; and as they gained the threshold ,
they heard a strain of music from within, a strain of
piercing, heart-rending anguish it was not like some
senseless instrument, mechanical in its obedience to a
human hand -it was as some spirit calling in wail and
agony from the forlorn shades, to the angels it beheld
.
afar beyond the Eternal Gulf. They exchanged glances
8*
90 ZANONI.

of dismay. They hurried into the house-they hastened

.
into the room. Pisani turned, and his look, full of ghastly
intelligence and stern command, awed them back. The
black mantilla, the faded laurel-leaf, lay there before him.
Viola's heart guessed all at a single glance -she sprung
to his knees - she clasped them-" Father, father, I am
left thee still ! "
The wail ceased --the note changed ; with a confused
association - half of the man, half of the artist - the
anguish, still a melody, was connected with sweeter sounds
and thoughts. The nightingale had escaped the pursuit
-soft, airy, bird- like, —thrilled the delicious notes a mo-
ment, and then died away. The instrument fell to the
floor, and its chords snapped. You heard that sound
through the silence. The artist looked on his kneeling
child, and then on the broken chords. " Bury
me by her side," he said , in a very calm, low voice ; " and
that, by mine . " And with these words his whole frame
became rigid, as if turned to stone. The last change
passed over his face. He fell to the ground , sudden and
heavy. The chords there, too-the chords of the human
instrument were snapped asunder. As he fell, his robe
brushed the laurel-wreath, and that fell also , near, but
not in reach of, the dead man's nerveless hand.
Broken instrument.- broken heart - withered laurel-
wreath ! -the setting sun through the vine-clad lattice
streamed on all ! So smiles the eternal Nature on the
wrecks of all that make life glorious ! And not a sun
that sets not somewhere on the silenced music - on the
faded laurel !
 ZANONI . 91

СНАРТЕER X.

Chè difesa miglior ch' usbergo e scudo

E la santa innocenza al petto ignudo ! *
GER. LIB. , C. viii. xli.

AND they buried the Musician and his barbiton

together, in the same coffin . That famous Steiner-
primæval Titan of the great Tyrolese race - often hast
thou sought to scale the heavens, and therefore must thou,
like the meaner children of men, descend to the dismal
Hades ! Harder fate for thee than thy mortal master.
For thy soul sleeps with thee in the coffin. And the
music that belongs to his, separate from the instrument,
ascends on high, to be heard often by a daughter's pious
ears, when the heaven is serene and the earth sad. For
there is a sense of hearing that the vulgar know not. And
the voices of the dead breathe soft and frequent to those
who can unite the memory with the faith .
And now Viola is alone in the world ; alone in the
home where loneliness had seemed from the cradle a thing
that was not of nature. And at first the solitude and the
stillness were insupportable. Have you, ye mourners, to
whom these sibyl leaves, weird with many a dark enigma,
shall be borne, have you not felt that when the death of

* Better defence than shield or breast-plate, is holy innocence to

the naked breast !
 92 ZANONI

some best-loved one has made the hearth desolate-have

you not felt as if the gloom of the altered home was too
heavy for thought to bear ?-you would leave it, though
a palace, even for a cabin. And yet-sad to say--when
you obey the impulse, when you fly from the walls, when
in the strange place in which you seek your refuge nothing
speaks to you of the lost, have ye not felt again a yearn-
ing for that very food to memory which was just before
but bitterness and gall ? Is it not almost impious and
profane to abandon that dear hearth to strangers ? And
the desertion of the home where your parents dwelt, and
blessed you, upbraids your conscience as if you had sold
their tombs. Beautiful was the Etruscan superstition ,
that the ancestors become the household gods. Deaf is
the heart to which the Lares call from the desolate floors
in vain. At first Viola had, in her intolerable anguish,
gratefully welcomed the refuge which the house and family
of a kindly neighbor, much attached to her father, and
who was one of the orchestra that Pisani shall perplex no
more, had proffered to the orphan. But the company of
the unfamiliar in our grief, the consolation of the stranger,
how it irritates the wound ! And then, to hear elsewhere
the name of father, mother, child—as if death came alone
to you to see elsewhere the calm regularity of those lives
united in love and order, keeping account of happy hours,
the unbroken time- piece of home, as if nowhere else the
wheels were arrested , the chain shattered , the hands mo-
tionless, the chime still ! No, the grave itself does not
remind us of our loss like the company of those who have

774
 ZANONI . 93

no loss to mourn . Go back to thy solitude, young or-

phan-go back to thy home : the sorrow that meets thee
on the threshold can greet thee, even in its sadness , like
the smile upon the face of the dead. And there, from
thy casement, and there, from without thy door, thou
seest still the tree, solitary as thyself, and springing from
the clefts of the rock, but forcing its way to light, — as ,
through all sorrow, while the seasons yet can renew the
verdure and bloom of youth, strives the instinct of the
human heart ! Only when the sap is dried up, only when
age comes on, does the sun shine in vain for man and for
the tree.
Weeks and months.- months sad and many -again
passed, and Naples will not longer suffer its idol to seclude
itself from homage. The world ever plucks us back from
ourselves with a thousand arms. And again Viola's
voice is heard upon the stage, which, mystically faithful
to life, is in nought more faithful than this, that it is the
appearances that fill the scene ; and we pause not to ask
of what realities they are the proxies. When the actor
of Athens moved all hearts as he clasped the burial- urn ,
and burst into broken sobs ; how few, there, knew that it
held the ashes of his son ! Gold, as well as fame, was

showered upon the young actress ; but she still kept to

her simple mode of life, to her lowly home, to the one
servant, whose faults, selfish as they were, Viola was too
inexperienced to perceive. And it was Gionetta who had
placed her, when first born, in her father's arms ! She
was surrounded by every snare, wooed by every solicita-
94 ZANONI .

tion that could beset her unguarded beauty and her dan-
gerous calling. But her modest virtue passed unsullied
through them all. It is true that she had been taught by
lips now mute the maiden duties enjoined by honor and re-
ligion. And all love that spoke not ofthe altar only shocked
and repelled her. But besides that, as grief and solitude
ripened her heart, and made her tremble at times to think
how deeply it could feel, her vague and early visions
shaped themselves into an ideal of love. And till the
ideal is found, how the shadow that it throws before it
chills us to the actual ! With that ideal, ever and ever,
unconsciously, and with a certain awe and shrinking, came
the shape and voice of the warning stranger. Nearly two
years had passed since he had appeared at Naples. No-
thing had been heard of him, save that his vessel had been
directed, some months after his departure, to sail for Leg-
horn. By the gossips of Naples, his existence, supposed
so extraordinary, was well-nigh forgotten ; but the heart
of Viola was more faithful . Often he glided through her
dreams, and when the wind sighed through that fantastic
tree, associated with his remembrance, she started with
a tremor and a blush, as if she had heard him speak.
But amongst the train of her suitors was one to whom
she listened more gently than to the rest ; partly because,
perhaps, he spoke in her mother's native tongue, partly
because in his diffidence there was little to alarm and
displease ; partly because his rank, nearer to her own
than that of lordlier wooers, prevented his admiration
from appearing insult ; partly because he himself, eloquent
and a dreamer, often uttered thoughts that were kindred
 ZANONI . 95

to those buried deepest in her mind . She began to like

S perhaps to love him, but as a sister loves ; a sort of

privileged familiarity sprung up between them. If, in

the Englishman's breast, arose wild and unworthy hopes,
he had not yet expressed them . Is there danger to thee
here, lone Viola ? or is the danger greater in thy unfound
ideal ?

And now, as the overture to some strange and wizard

spectacle, closes this opening prelude. Wilt thou hear
more ? Come with thy faith prepared . I ask not the
blinded eyes, but the awakened sense . As the enchanted
Isle, remote from the homes of men,
ove alcun legno
Rado, o non mai va dalle nostre sponde, -- *
(Ger. Lib., cant. xiv. 69. )
is the space in the weary ocean of actual life to which
the Muse or Sibyl (ancient in years but ever young in
aspect), offers thee no unhallowed sail.
Quinci ella in cima a una montagna ascende
Disabitata, e d'ombre oscura e bruna ,
E par incanto a lei nevose rende
Le spalle e i fianchi ; e sensa neve alcuna
Gli lascia il capo verdeggiante e vago ;
E vi fonda un palagio appresso un lago.†

* Where ship seldom or never comes from our coasts.

† There, she a mountain's lofty peak ascends,
Unpeopled, shady, shagg'd with forests brown,
Whose sides by power of magic half-way down
She heaps with slippery ice, and frost, and snow,
But sunshiny and verdant leaves the crown
With orange-woods and myrtles, speaks, and lo !
Rich from the bordering lake a palace rises slow.
(Wiffin's Translation. )
 BOOK SECOND .

ART, LOVE, AND WONDER.

CHAPTER I.

Centauri, e Sfingi, e pallide Gorgoni. *

GER. LIB., c. iv. v.

ONE moon-lit night, in the Gardens at Naples, some

four or five gentlemen were seated under a tree, drinking
their sherbet, and listening, in the intervals of conversa-
tion, to the music which enlivened that gay and favorite
resort of an indolent population.
One of this little party
was a young Englishman, who had been the life of the
whole group, but who, for the last few moments, had
sunk into a gloomy and abstracted reverie. One of his
countrymen observed this sudden gloom, and, tapping
him on the back, said, “ What ails you , Glyndon ? Are
you ill ? You have grown quite pale - you tremble.
Is it a sudden chill ? You had better go home : these
Italian nights are often dangerous to our English con-
stitutions. "

* Centaurs, and Sphinxes, and pallid Gorgons.

(98)
 ZANONI . 97

" No, I am well now ; it was a passing shudder. I

cannot account for it myself. "
A man , apparently of about thirty years of age, and
of a mien and countenance strikingly superior to those
around him, turned abruptly, and looked steadfastly at
Glyndon.
" I think I understand what you mean, " said he ; " and
perhaps, " he added , with a grave smile, " I could explain
it better than yourself. " Here, turning to the others, he
added, " You must often have felt, gentlemen, each and
all of you, especially when sitting alone at night, a strange
and unaccountable sensation of coldness and awe creep
over you ; your blood curdles, and the heart stands still :
the limbs shiver, the hair bristles ; you are afraid to look
up, to turn your eyes to the darker corners of the room ;
you have a horrible fancy that something unearthly is at
hand ; presently the whole spell, if I may so call it, passes
away, and you are ready to laugh at your own weakness.
Have you not often felt what I have thus imperfectly
described ? if so, you can understand what our young
friend has just experienced , even amidst the delights of
this magical scene, and amidst the balmy whispers of a
July night. "
" Sir," replied Glyndon , evidently much surprised, " you
have defined exactly the nature of that shudder which
came over me. But how could my manner be so faithful
an index to my impressions ?"
" I know the signs of the visitation , " returned the
I. -9
98 ZANONI .

stranger, gravely ; " they are not to be mistaken by one

.
of my experience."
All the gentlemen present then declared that they could
comprehend, and had felt, what the stranger had de-
scribed .
"According to one of our national superstitions," said
Mervale, the Englishman who had first addressed Glyn-
don, "the moment you so feel your blood creep , and your
hair stand on end, some one is walking over the spot
which shall be your grave. "
" There are in all lands different superstitions to ac-
count for so common an occurrence," replied the stranger :
""
one sect among the Arabians holds that at that instant
God is deciding the hour either of your death, or of some
one dear to you. The African savage, whose imagination
is darkened by the hideous rites of his gloomy idolatry,
believes that the Evil Spirit is pulling you towards him
by the hair so do the Grotesque and the Terrible mingle
with each other."
" It is evidently a mere physical accident- a derange-
ment of the stomach-a chill of the blood, " said a young
Neapolitan, with whom Glyndon had formed a slight ac-
quaintance.
" Then why is it always coupled in all nations with
some superstitious presentiment or terror-some connec-
tion between the material frame and the supposed world
without us ? For my part, I think- ""

"Ay, what do you think, sir ? " asked Glyndon, curi-

ously.
 ΖΑΝΟΝΙ . 99

" I think," continued the stranger, " that it is the re-

pugnance and horror with which our more human ele-
ments recoil from something, indeed, invisible, but anti-
pathetic to our own nature ; and from a knowledge of
which we are happily secured by the imperfection of our
senses ."
" You are a believer in spirits, then ? " said Mervale,
with an incredulous smile.
""
Nay, it was not precisely of spirits that I spoke ; but
there may be forms of matter as invisible and impalpable
to us as the animalculæ in the air we breathe - in the

water that plays in yonder basin . Such beings may have

passions and powers like our own , -as
- the animalcula to
which I have compared them. The monster that lives
and dies in a drop of water-carnivorous, insatiable, sub-
sisting on the creatures minuter than himself is not less
deadly in his wrath, less ferocious in his nature, than the
tiger of the desert. There may be things around us that
would be dangerous and hostile to men , if Providence had
not placed a wall between them and us, merely by differ-
ent modifications of matter. "
"And think you that wall never can be removed ? "
asked young Glyndon, abruptly. "Are the traditions of
sorcerer and wizard , universal and immemorial as they
are, merely fables ? ”
" Perhaps yes perhaps no, " answered the stranger,
indifferently. " But who , in an age in which the reason
has chosen its proper bounds , would be mad enough to
break the partition that divides him from the boa and the
 100 ZANONI .

lion --to repine at and rebel against the law which con-
fines the shark to the great deep ? Enough of these idle
speculations. "
Here the stranger rose, summoned the attendant, paid
for his sherbet, and, bowing slightly to the company, soon
disappeared among the trees.
"Who is that gentleman ? " asked Glyndon, eagerly.
The rest looked at each other, without replying, for
some moments.
" I never saw him before," said Mervale, at last.
" Nor I.'
" Nor I."
" I know him well," said the Neapolitan, who was, in-
deed, the Count Cetoxa. " If you remember, it was as
my companion that he joined you. He visited Naples
about two years ago, and has recently returned ; he is
-
very rich indeed, enormously so. A most agreeable
person. I am sorry to hear him talk so strangely to-
night ; it serves to encourage the various foolish reports
that are circulated concerning him. "
"And surely, ” said another Neapolitan , " the circum-
stance that occurred but the other day, so well known to
yourself, Cetoxa, justifies the reports you pretend to de-
precate. "
" Myself and my countryman, " said Glyndon, " mix so
little in Neapolitan society, that we lose much that ap-
pears well worthy of lively interest. May I inquire what
are the reports , and what is the circumstance you refer
to ? "

44
44
 ZANONI . 101

"As to the reports, gentlemen," said Cetoxa, cour-

teously addressing himself to the two Englishmen, " it
may suffice to observe, that they attribute to the Signor
Zanoni certain qualities which everybody desires for him-
self, but damns any one else for possessing. The inci-
dent Signor Belgioso alludes to , illustrates these qualities,
and is, I must own, somewhat startling . You probably
play, gentlemen ? " (Here Cetoxa paused ; and, as both
Englishmen had occasionally staked a few scudi at the
public gaming- tables, they bowed assent to the conjec-
ture. ) Cetoxa continued : " Well, then, not many days
since, and on the very day that Zanoni returned to Naples,
it so happened that I had been playing pretty high, and
had lost considerably. I rose from the table, resolved
no longer to tempt fortune, when I suddenly perceived
Zanoni, whose acquaintance I had before made ( and who,
I may say, was under some slight obligation to me) , stand-
ing by, a spectator. Ere I could express my gratification
at this unexpected recognition, he laid his hand on my
arm . 'You have lost much,' said he ; ' more than you
can afford . For my part, I dislike play ; yet I wish to
have some interest in what is going on. Will you play
this sum for me ? the risk is mine-the half profits yours. '
I was startled, as you may suppose, at such an address ;
but Zanoni had an air and tone with him it was impos-
sible to resist ; besides, I was burning to recover my
losses, and should not have risen had I had any money
left about me. I told him I would accept his offer, pro-
vided we shared the risk as well as profits. 'As you will ,'
9*
102 ZANONI .

said he, smiling , ' we need have no scruple, for you will
be sure to win. ' I sat down ; Zanoni stood behind me ;
my luck rose ; I invariably won. In fact, I rose from
the table a rich man. "
"There can be no foul play at the public tables, es-
pecially when foul play would make against the bank ? "
This question was put by Glyndon .
" Certainly not, " replied the count. " But our good
fortune was, indeed , marvellous - so extraordinary, that
a Sicilian (the Sicilians are all ill-bred , bad-tempered
fellows) grew angry and insolent. ' Sir,' said he, turning
to my new friend, ' you have no business to stand so near
to the table. I do not understand this ; you have not
acted fairly. ' Zanoni replied , with great composure, that
he had done nothing against the rules-that he was very
sorry that one man could not win without another man
losing ; and that he could not act unfairly, even if dis-
posed to do so. The Sicilian took the stranger's mild-
ness for apprehension, and blustered more loudly. In
fact, he rose from the table, and confronted Zanoni in a
manner that, to say the least of it, was provoking to any
gentleman who has some quickness of temper, or some
skill with the small-sword."
"And," interrupted Belgioso, "the most singular part
of the whole to me was, that this Zanoni, who stood op-
posite to where I sat, and whose face I distinctly saw,
made no remark, showed no resentment. He fixed his

eye steadfastly on the Sicilian ; never shall I forget that

look ! it is impossible to describe it : it froze the blood in
 ZANONI . 103

my veins . The Sicilian staggered back , as if struck . I

saw him tremble ; he sank on the bench . And then— ”
" Yes , then , " said Cetoxa , " to my infinite surprise , our
gentleman , thus disarmed by a look from Zanoni , turned
his whole anger upon me -the - but perhaps you do
not know , gentlemen ; that I have some repute with my
weapon ? 19
" The best swords-man in Italy," said Belgioso .
" Before I could guess why or wherefore, " resumed
Cetoxa, " I found myself in the garden behind the house,
with Ughelli (that was the Sicilian's name) facing me,
and five or six gentlemen , the witnesses of the duel about
"
to take place, around . Zanoni beckoned me aside. This
man will fall,' said he . 'When he is on the ground , go
to him, and ask whether he will be buried by the side of
his father in the church of San Gennaro ? ' ' Do you
then know his family ? ' I asked , with great surprise.
Zanoni made me no answer, and the next moment I was
engaged with the Sicilian. To do him justice, his im-
brogliato was magnificent, and a swifter lounger never
crossed a sword ; nevertheless, " added Cetoxa, with a
pleasing modesty, " he was run through the body. I went
up to him ; he could scarcely speak. 'Have you any re-
quest to make any affairs to settle ? ' He shook his
sxvvat

head. 'Where would you wish to be interred ? ' He

pointed towards the Sicilian coast. ' What ! ' said I, in
surprise, not by the side of your father, in the church of
San Gennaro ? ' As I spoke, his face altered terribly –
ne uttered a piercing shriek - the blood gushed from his
104 ZANONI .

mouth, and he fell dead. The most strange part of the

story is to come. We buried him in the church of San
Gennaro. In doing so, we took up his father's coffin ;
the lid came off in moving it, and the skeleton was visible.
In the hollow of the skull we found a very slender wire
of sharp steel : this caused surprise and inquiry. The
father, who was rich, and a miser, had died suddenly, and
been buried in haste, owing, it was said, to the heat of
the weather. Suspicion once awakened , the examination
became minute. The old man's servant was questioned ,
and at last confessed that the son had murdered the sire :
the contrivance was ingenious : the wire was so slender,
that it pierced to the brain, and drew but one drop of
blood, which the grey hairs concealed . The accomplice
will be executed. "
"And Zanoni - did he give evidence ? did he account
for- 99
""
' No," interrupted the count : " he declared that he
had by accident visited the church that morning ; that
he had observed the tomb-stone of the Count Ughelli ;
that his guide had told him the count's son was in Naples
-a spendthrift and a gambler. While we were at play,
he had heard the count mentioned by name at the table ;
and when the challenge was given and accepted , it had
occurred to him to name the place of burial, by an in-
stinct which he either could not or would not account
for. "
"A very lame story, " said Mervale.
" Yes ! but we Italians are superstitious ;-the alleged
 ZANONI . 105

instinct was regarded by many as the whisper of Provi-

dence. The next day the stranger became an object of
universal interest and curiosity. His wealth, his manner
of living, bis extraordinary personal beauty, have assisted
also to make him the rage ; besides, I have had pleasure
in introducing so eminent a person to our gayest cava-
liers and our fairest ladies. "
"A most interesting narrative, " said Mervale, rising.
6 Come, Glyndon ; shall we seek our hotel ?-It is almost

daylight. Adieu , signor ! "

" What think you of this story ? " said Glyndon, as the
young men walked homeward .
""' Why, it is very clear that this Zanoni is some im-

postor some clever rogue ; and the Neapolitan shares

the booty, and puffs him off with all the hackneyed
charlatanism of the marvellous. An unknown adventurer
gets into society by being made an object of awe and
curiosity ; ― he is more than ordinarily handsome ; and
the women are quite content to receive him without any
other recommendation than his own face and Cetoxa's
fables."
" I cannot agree with you. Cetoxa, though a gambler
and a rake, is a nobleman of birth and high repute for
courage and honor. Besides, this stranger, with his noble
presence, and lofty air.M so calm so unobtrusive www has

nothing in common with the forward garrulity of an im-

postor. "
" My dear Glyndon, pardon me ; but you have not yet
acquired any knowledge ofthe world ! the stranger makes
106 ZANONI .

the best of a fine person, and his grand air is but a trick
of the trade. But to change the subject- how advances
the love affair ?
" Oh, Viola could not see me to-day. "
" You must not marry her. What would they all say
at home ? "
" Let us enjoy the present, " said Glyndon, with vivacity ;
66 we are young, rich, good -looking : let us not think of

to-morrow. "
"Bravo, Glyndon ! Here we are at the hotel. Sleep
sound, and don't dream of Signor Zanoni. "

CHAPTER II .

Prende, giovine audace e impaziente,

L'occasione offerta avidamente.*
GER. LIB. , c. vi. xxix.

CLARENCE GLYNDON was a young man of fortune, not

large but easy and independent. His parents were dead,
and his nearest relation was an only sister, left in England
under the care of her aunt, and many years younger than
himself. Early in life he had evinced considerable promise
in the art of painting, and rather from enthusiasm than
any pecuniary necessity for a profession, he determined to
devote himself to a career in which the English artist
generally commences with rapture and historical compo-

* Take, youth, bold and impatient, the offered occasion eagerly.

 ZANONI . 107

sition, to conclude with avaricious calculation and por-

traits of Alderman Simpkins. Glyndon was supposed by
his friends to possess no inconsiderable genius ; but it
was of a rash and presumptuous order. He was averse
from continuous and steady labor, and his ambition rather
sought to gather the fruit than to plant the tree. In
common with many artists in their youth, he was fond of
pleasure and excitement, yielding with little forethought
to whatever impressed his fancy or appealed to his pas-
sions. He had travelled through the more celebrated
cities of Europe, with the avowed purpose and sincere
resolution of studying the divine master- pieces of his art.
But in each, pleasure had too often allured him from am-
bition, and living beauty distracted his worship from the
senseless canvas. Brave, adventurous, vain , restless, in-

quisitive, he was ever involved in wild projects and pleas-

ant dangers ― the creature of impulse and the slave of
imagination.
It was then the period , when a feverish spirit of change
was working its way to that hideous mockery of human
aspirations, the Revolution of France. And from the
chaos into which were already jarring the sanctities of the
World's Venerable Belief, arose many shapeless and un-
formed chimeras. Need I remind the reader, that while
that was the day for polished skepticism and affected wis-
dom, it was the day also for the most egregious credulity
and the most mystical superstitions, - the day in which
magnetism and magic found converts amongst the disci-
ples of Diderot,-when prophecies were current in every
108 ZANONI .

mouth, when the salon of a philosophical deist was con-

verted into an Heraclea, in which necromancy professed
to conjure up the shadows of the dead - when the Crozier
and the Book were ridiculed , and Mesmer and Cagliostro
were believed. In that Heliacal Rising heralding the new
sun before which all vapors were to vanish, stalked from
their graves in the feudal ages all the phantoms that had
flitted before the eyes of Paracelsus and Agrippa. Daz-
zled by the dawn of the Revolution, Glyndon was yet
more attracted by its strange accompaniments, and natu-
ral it was with him, as with others, that the fancy which
ran riot amidst the hopes of a social Utopia, should grasp
with avidity all that promised , out of the dusty tracks of
the beaten science, the bold discoveries of some marvel-
lous Elysium .
In his travels, he had listened with vivid interest, at
least, if not with implicit belief, to the wonders told of
each more renowned Ghost-seer, and his mind was there-
fore prepared for the impression which the mysterious
Zanoni at first sight had produced upon it.
There might be another cause for this disposition to
credulity. A remote ancestor of Glyndon's, on the mo-
ther's side, had achieved no inconsiderable reputation as
a philosopher and alchemist. Strange stories were afloat
concerning this wise progenitor. He was said to have
lived to an age far exceeding the allotted boundaries of
mortal existence, and to have preserved to the last the 1
appearance of middle life. He had died at length, it was
supposed of grief for the sudden death of a great- grand-
 ZANONI . 109

child, the only creature he had ever appeared to love.

The works of this philosopher, though rare, were extant,
and found in the library of Glyndon's home. Their Pla-
tonic mysticism, their bold assertions, the high promises
that might be detected through their figurative and typi-
cal phraseology, had early made a deep impression on the
young imagination of Clarence Glyndon. His parents,
not alive to the consequences of encouraging fancies which
.
the very enlightenment of the age appeared to them suf-
ficient to prevent or dispel, were fond , in the long winter
nights, of conversing on the traditional history of this dis-
tinguished progenitor. And Clarence thrilled with a
fearful pleasure when his mother playfully detected a
striking likeness between the features of the young heir
and the faded portrait of the alchemist that overhung
their mantel- piece, and was the boast of their household
and the admiration of their friends :-The child is, indeed ,
more often than we think for, " the father of the man. "
I have said that Glyndon was fond of pleasure. Facile,
as genius ever must be, to cheerful impression, his care-
less Artist- life, ere Artist-life settles down to labor, had
wandered from flower to flower. He had enjoyed , almost
to the reaction of satiety, the gay revelries of Naples ,
when he fell in love with the face and voice of Viola Pi-
sani. But his love, like his ambition, was vague and
desultory. It did not satisfy his whole heart and fill up
his whole nature ; not from want of strong and noble
passions, but because his mind was not yet matured and
settled enough for their development. As there is one
I. -10
 110 ZANONI .

season for the blossom, another for the fruit ; so it is not

till the bloom of fancy begins to fade, that the heart ripens
to the passions that the bloom precedes and foretells.
Joyous alike at his lonely easel or amidst his boon com-
panions, he had not yet known enough of sorrow to love
deeply. For man must be disappointed with the lesser
things of life before he can comprehend the full value of
the greatest. It is the shallow sensualists of France, who,
in their salon-language, call love " a folly ; " Love, bet-
ter understood , is wisdom. Besides , the world was too
much with Clarence Glyndon. His ambition of art was
associated with the applause and estimation of that mise-
rable minority of the Surface that we call the Public.
Like those who deceive, he was ever fearful of being
himself the dupe. He distrusted the sweet innocence of
Viola. He could not venture the hazard of seriously
proposing marriage to an Italian actress ; but the modest
dignity of the girl, and something good and generous in
his own nature , had hitherto made him shrink from any
more worldly but less honorable designs. Thus the fami-
liarity between them seemed rather that of kindness and
regard than passion . He attended the theatre ; he stole
behind the scenes to converse with her ; he filled his port-
folio with countless sketches of a beauty that charmed
him as an artist as well as lover. And day after day he
floated on through a changing sea of doubt and irresolu-
tion, of affection and distrust. The last, indeed , constantly
sustained against his better reason, by the sober admo-
nitions of Mervale, a matter- of-fact man !

44
44
 ZANONI . 111

The day following that eve on which this section of

my story opens, Glyndon was riding alone by the shores.
of the Neapolitan sea, on the other side of the Cavern
of Posilipo. It was past noon ; the sun had lost its early
fervor, and a cool breeze sprung up voluptuously from
the sparkling sea . Bending over a fragment of stone
near the road- side, he perceived the form of a man ; and
when he approached, he recognized Zanoni.
The Englishman saluted him courteously. " Have you
discovered some antique ? " said he , with a smile ; “ they
are common as pebbles on this road. "
" No," replied Zanoni ; " it was but one of those an-
tiques that have their date, indeed, from the beginning
of the world , but which Nature eternally withers and
renews. " So saying, he showed Glyndon a small herb,
with a pale blue flower, and then placed it carefully in
his bosom .
" You are an herbalist ? "
" I am. "

"It is, I am told, a study full of interest. "

" To those who understand it, doubtless. "
" Is the knowledge, then, so rare ? "
" Rare ! The deeper knowledge is perhaps rather,
among the arts, lost to the modern philosophy of common-
place and surface ! Do you imagine there was no foun-
dation for those traditions which come dimly down from
remoter ages - as shells now found on the mountain- tops
inform us where the seas have been ? What was the old
Colchian magic, but the minute study of Nature in her
112 ZANONI .

lowliest works ? What the fable of Medea, but a proof

of the powers that may be extracted from the germ and
leaf ? The most gifted of all the Priestcrafts, the mys
terious sisterhoods of Cuth, concerning whose incanta-
tions Learning vainly bewilders itself amidst the maze of
legends, sought in the meanest herbs what, perhaps, the
Babylonian Sages explored in vain amidst the loftiest
stars. Tradition yet tells you that there existed a race *
who could slay their enemies from afar, without weapon,
without movement. The herb that ye tread on may have
deadlier powers than your engineers can give to their
mightiest instruments of war. Can you guess, that to
these Italian shores -to the old Circæan Promontory,
came the Wise from the farthest East, to search for plants
and simples which your Pharmacists of the Counter would
fling from them as weeds ? The first Herbalists - the
master chemists of the world were the tribe that the
ancient reverence called by the name of Titans. † I re-
member once, by the Hebrus, in the reign of - . But
this talk, " said Zanoni, checking himself abruptly, and
with a cold smile , "" serves only to waste your time and
my own." He paused, looked steadily at Glyndon, and
continued 'Young man, think you that vague curiosity
will supply the place of earnest labor ? I read your
heart. You wish to know me, and not this humble herb :
but pass on ; your desire cannot be satisfied . "
" You have not the politeness of your countrymen, "

* Plut. Symp. , 1. 5, c. 7.
6
Syncellus, p. 14. 16 Chemistry the Invention of the Giants."
 ZANONI . 113

said Glyndon, somewhat discomposed . " Suppose I were

desirous to cultivate your acquaintance, why should you
reject my advances ? "
" I reject no man's advances," answered Zanoni ; "I
must know them if they so desire ; but me, in return,
they can never comprehend. If you ask my acquaintance,
it is yours ; but I would warn you to shun me. "
"And why are you, then, so dangerous ? "
" On this earth, men are often, without their own
agency, fated to be dangerous to others . If I were to
predict your fortune by the vain calculations of the as-
trologer, I should tell you, in their despicable jargon,
that my planet sat darkly in your house of life. Cross
me not, if you can avoid it. I warn you now for the first
time and last. "
"You despise the astrologers, yet you utter a jargon
as mysterious as theirs. I neither gamble nor quarrel ;
why, then, should I fear you ?"
"As you will ; I have done. ”
""
Let me speak frankly — your conversation last night
interested and perplexed me. "
" I know it : minds like yours are attracted by mystery."
Glyndon was piqued at these words, though in the tone
in which they were spoken there was no contempt.
" I see you do not consider me worthy of your friend-
ship. Be it so . Good day ! "
Zanoni coldly replied to the salutation ; and, as the
Englishman rode on, returned to his botanical employ-
ment.
10 * H
114 ZANONI .

The same night, Glyndon went, as usual, to the theatre.

He was standing behind the scenes watching Viola, who
was on the stage in one of her most brilliant parts. The
house resounded with applause. Glyndon was transported
with a young man's passion and a young man's pride :
" This glorious creature, " thought he, " may yet be
mine."
He felt, while thus wrapt in delicious reverie, a slight
touch upon his shoulder : he turned, and beheld Zanoni.
" You are in danger, " said the latter. " Do not walk
home to-night ; or if you do, go not alone."
Before Glyndon recovered from his surprise, Zanoni
disappeared ; and when the Englishman saw him again,
he was in the box of one of the Neapolitan nobles, where
Glyndon could not follow him.
Viola now left the stage, and Glyndon accosted her
with an unaccustomed warmth of gallantry. But Viola,
contrary to her gentle habit, turned with an evident impa-
tience from the address of her lover. Taking aside
Gionetta, who was her constant attendant at the theatre,
she said, in an earnest whisper, -
" Oh, Gionetta ! He is here again ! the stranger
of whom I spoke to thee ! — and again, he alone, of the
whole theatre, withholds from me his applause."
"Which is he, my darling ? " said the old woman, with
fondness in her voice. 66'He must indeed be dull -
— not
worth a thought. "
The actress drew Gionetta nearer to the stage, and
pointed out to her a man in one of the boxes, conspicuous
 ZANONI . 115

amongst all else by the simplicity of his dress, and the

extraordinary beauty of his features.
" Not worth a thought, Gionetta ! " repeated Viola -
""
not worth a thought ! Alas, not to think of him, seems
the absence of thought itself !"
The prompter summoned the Signora Pisani . 66 Find

out his name, Gionetta, " said she, moving slowly to the
stage, and passing by Glyndon, who gazed at her with a
look of sorrowful reproach .
The scene on which the actress now entered was that
of the final catastrophe, wherein all her remarkable powers
of voice and art were pre-eminently called forth. The
house hung on every word with breathless worship ; but
the eyes of Viola sought only those of one calm and un-
moved spectator : she exerted herself as if inspired . Zanoni
listened, and observed her with an attentive gaze, but no
approval escaped his lips ; no emotion changed the expres-
sion of his cold and half-disdainful aspect. Viola, who was
in the character of one who loved, but without return, never
felt so acutely the part she played . Her tears were truth-
ful ; it was almost too terrible to behold . She was borne
from the stage exhausted and insensible, amidst such a
tempest of admiring rapture as continental audiences
alone can raise . The crowd stood up . handkerchiefs
waved garlands and flowers were thrown on the stage
men wiped their eyes, and women sobbed aloud.
" By heavens ! " said a Neapolitan of great rank, " she
has fired me beyond endurance. To-night, this very night,
she shall be mine ! You have arranged all, Mascari ? "
 116 ZANONI .

"All, Signor. And the young Englishman ? "

" The presuming barbarian ! As I before told thee,
let him bleed for his folly. I will have no rival. "
" But an Englishman ! There is always a search after
the bodies of the English.
" Fool ! is not the sea deep enough, or the earth secret
enough to hide one dead man ? Our ruffians are silent
as the grave itself : -and I ! -
— who would dare to suspect,
to arraign the Prince di ? See to it - this night.
I trust him to you : — robbers murder him — you under-
stand ; the country swarms with them ; — plunder and
strip him, the better to favor such report. Take three
men ; the rest shall be my escort. "
Mascari shrugged his shoulders, and bowed submissively.
The streets of Naples were not then so safe as now,
and carriages were both less expensive and more neces-
sary. The vehicle which was regularly engaged by the
young actress was not to be found. Gionetta, too aware
of the beauty of her mistress and the number of her
admirers to contemplate without alarm the idea of their
return on foot, communicated her distress to Glyndon,
and he besought Viola, who recovered but slowly, to
accept his own carriage. Perhaps before that night she
would not have rejected so slight a service. Now, for
some reason or other, she refused . Glyndon, offended ,
was retiring sullenly, when Gionetta stopped him. " Stay,
Signor," said she coaxingly ; " the dear Signora is not
well - do not be angry with her ; I will make her accept
your offer "

77
 ZANONI . 117

Glyndon stayed, and after a few moments spent in

expostulation on the part of Gionetta, and resistance on
that of Viola, the offer was accepted . Gionetta and her
charge entered the carriage, and Glyndon was left at the
door of the theatre to return home on foot. The mys-

terious warning of Zanoni then suddenly occurred to him ;

he had forgotten it in the interest of his lover's quarrel
with Viola. He thought it now advisable to guard against
danger foretold by lips so mysterious : he looked around
for some one he knew ; the theatre was disgorging its
crowds ; they hustled , and jostled , and pressed upon him ;
but he recognized no familiar countenance. While pausing
irresolute, he heard Mervale's voice calling on him , and,
to his great relief, discovered his friend making his way
through the throng.
""
" I have secured you," said he, a place in the Count
Cetoxa's carriage. Come along, he is waiting for us. "
" How kind in you ! how did you find me out ? "
"I met Zanoni in the passage. Your friend is at the

door of the theatre, ' said he ; ' do not let him go home
on foot to-night ; the streets of Naples are not always
safe. ' I immediately remembered that some of the Cala-
brian bravos had been busy within the city the last few
weeks, and suddenly meeting Cetoxa- but here he is. "
Further explanation was forbidden, for they now joined
the count. As Glyndon entered the carriage and drew
up the glass, he saw four men standing apart by the
pavement, who seemed to eye him with attention.
"Cospetto ! " cried one, "that is the Englishman ! "
118 ZANONI .

Glyndon imperfectly heard the exclamation as the carriage

drove on. He reached home in safety.

The familiar and endearing intimacy which always

exists in Italy between the nurse and the child she has
reared , and which the " Romeo and Juliet " of Shakspeare
in no way exaggerates, could not but be drawn yet closer
than usual, in a situation so friendless as that of the
orphan- actress. In all that concerned the weaknesses of
the heart, Gionetta had large experience ; and when,
three nights before, Viola, on returning from the theatre,
had wept bitterly, the nurse had succeeded in extracting
from her a confession that she had seen one ― - not seeu
-
for two weary and eventful years - but never forgotten ,
and who, alas, had not evinced the slightest recognition
of herself. Gionetta could not comprehend all the vague
and innocent emotions that swelled this sorrow ; but she
resolved them all, with her plain, blunt understanding, to
the one sentiment of love. And here, she was well fitted
to sympathize and console. Confidante to Viola's entire
and deep heart she never could be---- for that heart never
could have words for all its secrets. But such confidence
as she could obtain, she was ready to repay by the most
unreproving pity and the most ready service.
" Have you discovered who he is ? " asked Viola, as
she was now alone in the carriage with Gionetta .
"Yes ; he is the celebrated Signor Zanoni, about whom
all the great ladies have gone mad . They say he is so
rich - oh ! so much richer than any of the Inglesi !—not
but what the Signor Glyndon- ""
 ZANONI . 119

" Cease ! " interrupted the young actress. " Zanoni !

Speak of the Englishman no more. "
The carriage was now entering that more lonely and
remote part of the city in which Viola's house was situ-
ated, when it suddenly stopped.
Gionetta, in alarm, thrust her head out of the window,
and perceived, by the pale light of the moon, that the
driver, torn from his seat, was already pinioned in the
arms of two men : the next moment the door was opened
violently, and a tall figure, masked and mantled , appeared.
""
' Fear not, fairest Pisani , " said he, gently, " no ill shall
befall you . " As he spoke, he wound his arm round the
form of the fair actress, and endeavored to lift her from
the carriage. But Gionetta was no ordinary ally - she
thrust back the assailant with a force that astonished him ,
and followed the shock by a volley of the most energetic
reprobation.
The mask drew back, and composed his disordered
mantle .
"
By the body of Bacchus ! " said he, half laughing ,
" she is well protected . Here, Luigi― Giovanni ! seize
the hag - quick ! - why loiter ye ? "
The mask retired from the door, and another and yet
taller form presented itself." Be calm, Viola Pisani, "
said he, in a low voice ; "with me you are indeed safe ! "
He lifted his mask as he spoke, and showed the noble
features of Zanoni.
""
Be calm, be hushed ,-I can save you. " He vanished,
leaving Viola lost in surprise, agitation, and delight.
120 ZANONI .

There were, in all, nine masks : two were engaged with

the driver ; one stood at the head of the carriage- horses ;
a fourth guarded the well-trained steeds of the party ;
three others (besides Zanoni and the one who had first
accosted Viola) stood apart by a carriage drawn to the
side of the road. To these three Zanoni motioned : they
advanced ; he pointed towards the first mask, who was in
fact the Prince di- , and to his unspeakable astonish-
ment, the Prince was suddenly seized from behind.
" Treason ! " he cried . " Treason among my own men !
What means this ?"
Place him in his carriage ! If he resist, his blood be
on his own head ! " said Zanoni , calmly.
He approached the men who had detained the coach-
man.
66
You are outnumbered and outwitted," said he : "join
your lord ; you are three men -we six, armed to the
teeth. Thank our mercy that we spare your lives. - Go ! "
The men gave way, dismayed . The driver remounted .
" Cut the traces of their carriage and the bridles of
their horses," said Zanoni, as he entered the vehicle con-
taining Viola, which now drove on rapidly, leaving the
discomfited ravisher in a state of rage and stupor im-
possible to. describe.
" Allow me to explain this mystery to you," said Za-
noni. " I discovered the plot against you - no matter
how ; I frustrated it thus :-The head of this design is a
nobleman, who has long persecuted you in vain. He and
two of his creatures watched you from the entrance of
 ZANONI . 121

the theatre, having directed six others to await him on

the spot where you were attacked ; myself and five of my
servants supplied their place, and were mistaken for his
own followers. I had previously ridden alone to the spot
where the men were waiting , and informed them that their
master would not require their services that night. They
believed me, and accordingly dispersed . I then joined
my own band, whom I had left in the rear ; you know all.
We are at your door. "

CHAPTER III .

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,

For all the day they view things unrespected ;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed .
SHAKSPEARE .

ZANONI followed the young Neapolitan into her house :

Gionetta vanished - they were left alone.
Alone, in that room so often filled, in the old happy
days, with the wild melodies of Pisani ; and now, as she
saw this mysterious, haunting , yet beautiful and stately
stranger, standing on the very spot where she had sat at
her father's feet, thrilled and spell-bound - she almost
thought, in her fantastic way of personifying her own airy
notions, that that spiritual Music had taken shape and life,
and stood before her glorious in the image it assumed.
She was unconscious all the while of her own loveliness.
She had thrown aside her hood and veil ; her hair, some-
I.- 11
122 ZANONI .

what disordered , fell over the ivory neck which the dress
partially displayed ; and, as her dark eyes swam with
grateful tears, and her cheek flushed with its late exeite-
ment, the god of light and music himself never, amidst his
Arcadian valleys, wooed , in his mortal guise, maiden or
nymph more fair.
Zanoni gazed at her with a look in which admiration
seemed not unmingled with compassion . He muttered a
few words to himself, and then addressed her aloud .
""
Viola, I have saved you from a great peril ; not from
dishonor only, but, perhaps, from death. The Prince
di under a weak despot and a venal administration ,
is a man above the law. He is capable of every crimee ;

but amongst his passions he has such prudence as belongs

to ambition ; if you were not to reconcile yourself to
your shame, you would never enter the world again to
tell your tale. The ravisher has no heart for repentance,
but he has a hand that can murder. I have saved you,
Viola. Perhaps you would ask me wherefore ? " Zanoni
paused, and smiled mournfully, as he added, " You will
not wrong me by the thought that he who has preserved
.
is not less selfish than he who would have injured . Orphan,
I do not speak to you in the language of your wooers ;
enough that I know pity, and am not ungrateful for
affection. Why blush, why tremble at the word ? I read
your heart while I speak, and I see not one thought that
should give you shame. I say not that you love me yet ;
happily, the fancy may be roused long before the heart
is touched. But it has been my fate to fascinate your
 ZANONI . 123

eye, to influence your imagination . It is to warn you

against what could bring you but sorrow, as I warned
you once to prepare for sorrow itself, that I am now your
guest. The Englishman , Glyndon, loves thee well.
better, perhaps, than I can ever love : if not worthy of
thee yet, he has but to know thee more to deserve thee
better. He may wed thee, he may bear thee to his own
free and happy land, the land of thy mother's kin. For-
get me ; teach thyself to return and deserve his love ; and
I tell thee that thou wilt be honored and happy. "
Viola listened with silent, inexpressible emotion, and
burning blushes, to this strange address, and when he had
concluded, she covered her face with her hands, and wept.
And yet, much as his words were calculated to humble
or irritate, to produce indignation or excite shame, those
were not the feelings with which•her eyes streamed and her
heart swelled. The woman at that moment was lost in
the child and as a child with all its exacting, craving,
yet innocent desire to be loved, weeps in unrebuking
sadness when its affection is thrown austerely back upon
itself so , without anger and without shame, wept Viola.
Zanoni contemplated her thus, as her graceful head,
shadowed by its redundant tresses, bent before him ; and
after a moment's pause he drew near to her, and said, in
a voice of the most soothing sweetness, and with a half
smile upon his lip-
""
' Do you remember, when I told you to struggle for
the light, that I pointed for example to the resolute and
earnest tree : I did not tell you , fair child , to take exam-
124 ZANONI .

ple by the moth, that would soar to the star, but falls
scorched beside the lamp. Come, I will talk to thee.
This Englishman "
Viola drew herself away, and wept yet more passion-
ately.
" This Englishman is of thine own years, not far above
thine own rank. Thou mayst share his thoughts in life
-thou mayst sleep beside him in the same grave in death !
And I, but that view of the future should concern us not.
Look into thy heart, and thou wilt see that till again my
shadow crossed thy path, there had grown up for this
thine equal, a pure and calm affection that would have
ripened into love. Hast thou never pictured to thyself
a home in which thy partner was thy young wooer ? "
" Never ! " said Viola, with sudden energy, " never,
but to feel that such was not the fate ordained me. And,
oh ! " she continued, rising suddenly, and putting aside
the tresses that veiled her face, she fixed her eyes upon
the questioner ; " and, oh ! whoever thou art that thus
wouldst read my soul and shape my future, do not mistake
the sentiment that, that "— ( she faltered an instant, and
went on with downcast eyes) "that has fascinated my
thoughts to thee. Do not think that I could nourish a
love unsought and unreturned . It is not love that I feel
for thee, stranger. Why should I ? Thou hast never
spoken to me but to admonish ― and now, to wound ! "
Again she paused, again her voice faltered ; the tears
trembled on her eye-lids ; she brushed them away and
resumed. " No, not love -- if that be love which I have
 ZANONI . 125

heard and read of, and sought to simulate on the stage,

- - but a more solemn, fearful, and, it seems to me, almost
preternatural attraction, which makes me associate thee,
waking or dreaming , with images that at once charm and
awe. Thinkest thou, if it were love, that I could speak
to thee thus ? that " (she raised her looks suddenly to
his) " mine eyes could thus search and confront thine
own ? Stranger, I ask but at times to see, to hear thee !
Stranger, talk not to me of others. Forewarn, rebuke,
bruise my heart, reject the not unworthy gratitude it offers
thee, if thou wilt, but come not always to me as an omen
of grief and trouble. Sometimes have I seen thee in my
dreams surrounded by shapes of glory and light ; thy
looks radiant with a celestial joy which they wear not
now. Stranger, thou hast saved me, and I thank and
bless thee ! Is that also a homage thou wouldst reject ? ”
With these words , she crossed her arms meekly on her
bosom, and inclined lowlily before him. Nor did her
humility seem unwomanly or abject, nor that of mistress
to lover, of slave to master, but rather of a child to its
guardian, of a neophyte of the old religion to her priest.
Zanoni's brow was melancholy and thoughtful. He looked
.
at her with a strange expression of kindness, of sorrow,
yet of tender affection , in his eyes ; but his lips were stern ,
and his voice cold, as he replied
" Do you know what you ask, Viola ? Do you guess
the danger to yourself— perhaps to both of us - which
you court ? Do you know that my life, separated from
the turbulent herd of men, is one worship of the Beautiful,
11 *
 126 ZANONI .

from which I seek to banish what the Beautiful inspires

in most ? As a calamity, I shun what to man seems the
fairest fate --the love of the daughters of earth. At
present I can warn and save thee from many evils : if I
saw more of thee, would the power still be mine ? You
understand me not. What I am about to add, it will be
easier to comprehend. I bid thee banish from thy heart
all thought of me, but as one whom the Future cries
aloud to thee to avoid. Glyndon, if thou acceptest his
homage, will love thee till the tomb closes upon both.
I too," he added with emotion, " I, too, might love thee ! "
66
You ! " cried Viola, with the vehemence of a sudden
impulse of delight, of rapture, which she could not sup-
press ; but the instant after, she would have given worlds
to recall the exclamation.
" Yes, Viola, I might love thee ; but in that love what
sorrow and what change ! The flower gives perfume to
the rock on whose heart it grows. A little while, and
the flower is dead ; but the rock still endures ; -the snow
at its breast-the sunshine on its summit. Pause-think
well. Danger besets thee yet. For some days thou
shalt be safe from thy remorseless persecutor ; but the
hour soon comes when thy only security will be in flight.
If the Englishman love thee worthily, thy honor will be
dear to him as his own ; if not, there are yet other lands.
where love will be truer, and virtue less in danger from
fraud and force. Farewell : my own destiny I cannot
foresee except through cloud and shadow. I know, at
least, that we shall meet again ; but learn ere then, sweet

77
 ZANONI . 127

flower, that there are more genial resting-places than the

rock. "
He turned as he spoke, and gained the outer door
where Gionetta discreetly stood. Zanoni lightly laid his
hand on her arm . With the gay accent of a jesting
cavalier, he said
" The Signor Glyndon wooes your mistress : he may
wed her. I know your love for her. Disabuse her of
any caprice for me. I am a bird ever on the wing. "
He dropped a purse into Gionetta's hand as he spoke,
and was gone.

CHAPTER IV.

Les Intelligences Célestes se font voir, et se communiquent plus

volontiers, dans le silence, et dans la tranquillité de la solitude.
On aura donc une petite chambre ou un cabinet secret, &c. * →
Les Clavicules de Rabbi Salomon, chap. 3 ; traduites exactement du
texte Hebreu par M. Pierre Morissoneau, Professeur des Langues
Orientales, et Sectateur de la Philosophie des Sages Cabalistes.
(Manuscript Translation. )

THE Palace retained by Zanoni was in one of the less

frequented quarters of the city. It still stands, now
ruined and dismantled , a monument of the splendor of a
chivalry long since vanished from Naples, with the lordly
races of the Norman and the Spaniard.

* The Celestial Intelligences exhibit and explain themselves most

freely in silence, and the tranquillity of solitude. One will have
then a little chamber, or a secret cabinet, & c.
128 ZANONI .

As he entered the rooms reserved for his private hours,

two Indians, in the dress of their country, received him
at the threshold with the grave salutations of the East.
They had accompanied him from the far lands in which,
according to rumor, he had for many years fixed his
home. But they could communicate nothing to gratify
curiosity or justify suspicion. They spoke no language
but their own. With the exception of these two, his
princely retinue was composed of the native hirelings of
the city ; whom his lavish but imperious generosity made
the implicit creatures of his will. In his house, and in
his habits, so far as they were seen, there was nothing to
account for the rumors which were circulated abroad . He
was not, as we are told of Albertus Magnus or the great
Leonardo da Vinci, served by airy forms ; and no brazen
image, the invention of magic mechanism, communicated
to him the influences of the stars. None of the apparatus
of the alchemist.- the crucible, and the metals - gave
solemnity to his chambers, or accounted for his wealth ;
nor did he even seem to interest himself in those serener

studies which might be supposed to color his peculiar

conversation with abstract notions, and often with recon-
dite learning . No books spoke to him in his solitude ;
and if ever he had drawn from them his knowledge, it
seemed now that the only page he read was the wide one
of Nature, and that a capacious and startling memory
supplied the rest. Yet was there one exception to what
in all else seemed customary and common- place, and
which, according to the authority we have prefixed to
 ZANONI. 129

this chapter, might indicate the follower of the occult

sciences. Whether at Rome or Naples, or, in fact, wher-
ever his abode, he selected one room remote from the rest
of the house, which was fastened by a lock scarcely larger
than the seal of a ring, yet which sufficed to baffle the
most cunning instruments of the locksmith : at least, one
of his servants, prompted by irresistible curiosity, had
made the attempt in vain ; and though he had fancied it
was tried in the most favorable time for secrecy. not a
soul near- in the dead of night- Zanoni himself absent
from home, yet his superstition, or his conscience , told
him the reason why the next day the Major Domo quietly
dismissed him. He compensated himself for this misfor-
tune by spreading his own story, with a thousand amusing
exaggerations. He declared that, as he approached the
door, invisible hands seemed to pluck him away ; and
that when he touched the lock, he was struck as by a
palsy to the ground . One surgeon, who heard the tale,
observed, to the distaste of the wonder-mongers, that
possibly Zanoni made a dexterous use of electricity.
Howbeit, this room once so secured , was never entered
save by Zanoni himself.
The solemn voice of Time, from the neighboring church ,
at last aroused the lord of the palace from the deep and
motionless reverie, rather resembling a trance than thought,
in which his mind was absorbed.
" It is one more sand out of the mighty hour-glass,"
said he, murmuringly, " and yet time neither adds to, nor
steals from, an atom in the Infinite ! Soul of mine, the
I
130 ZANONI .

luminous, the Augoeides, * why descendest thou from thy

sphere - why from the eternal, star-like, and passionless
Serene, shrinkest thou back to the mists of the dark
sarcophagus ? How long, too austerely taught that com-
panionship with the things that die brings with it but
sorrow in its sweetness, hast thou dwelt contented with
thy majestic solitude ! "
As he thus murmured , one of the earliest birds that sa-
lute the dawn broke into sudden song from amidst the
orange-trees in the garden below his casement ; and as
suddenly, song answered song ; the mate, awakened at
the note, gave back its happy answer to the bird. He
listened ; and not the soul he had questioned, but the
heart replied . He rose, and with restless strides paced the
narrow floor. ""'Away from this world ! " he exclaimed
at length, with an impatient tone. " Can no time loosen
its fatal ties ? As the attraction that holds the earth in
space, is the attraction that fixes the soul to earth. Away,
from the dark grey planet ! Break, ye fetters : arise, ye
wings ! "
He passed through the silent galleries, and up the lofty
stairs, and entered the secret chamber. * * *

* Αυγοειδης -a word favored by the mystical Platonists, opawa

ψυχης αυγοειδής, όταν μητε εκτείνηται επι τι, μητε εσω συντρεχη μμτε συνιζανη,
αλλα φωτι λαμπηται , & την αληθειαν δρα την παντων, και την εν αυτη -MARC .
ANT., lib. 2. ― The sense of which beautiful sentence of the old
philosophy, which, as Bayle well observes, in his article on Cor-
nelius Agrippa, the modern Quietists have (however impotently)
sought to imitate, is to the effect that " the sphere of the soul is
luminous, when nothing external has contact with the soul itself;
but when lit by its own light, it sees the truth of all things and
the truth centered in itself."
 ZANONI . 131

CHAPTER V.

" I and my fellows

Are ministers of Fate."
The Tempest.

THE next day, Glyndon bent his steps towards Zanoni's

palace. The young man's imagination, naturally inflam-
mable, was singularly excited by the little he had seen
and heard of this strange being a spell, he could neither
master nor account for, attracted him towards the stranger.
Zanoni's power seemed mysterious and great , his motives
kindly and benevolent, yet his manners chilling and repel-
lant. Why at one moment reject Glyndon's acquaintance,
at another save him from danger ? How had Zanoni
thus acquired the knowledge of enemies unknown to Glyn-
don himself ? His interest was deeply roused , his grati-
tude appealed to ; he resolved to make another effort to
conciliate the ungracious herbalist.
The signor was at home, and Glyndon was admitted
into a lofty saloon, where in a few moments Zanoni joined
him.
" I am come to thank you for your warning last night, "
said he, " and to entreat you to complete my obligation
by informing me of the quarter to which I may look for
enmity and peril. "
" You are a gallant, " said Zanoni , with a smile, and in
132 ZANONI .

the English language, " and do you know so little of the

south as not to be aware that gallants have always rivals ? "
" Are you serious ? " said Glyndon, coloring .
" Most serious. You love Viola Pisani ; you have for
rival one of the most powerful and relentless of the Nea-
politan princes. Your danger is indeed great. "
" But pardon me ! —how came it known to you ? "
" I give no account of myself to mortal man," replied
Zanoni, haughtily ; " and to me it matters nothing whether
you regard or scorn my warning. "
"Well, if I may not question you, be it so ; —but at
least advise me what to do. "
" Would you follow my advice ? "
"Why not ? "
" Because you are constitutionally brave ; you are fond
of excitement and mystery ; you like to be the hero of a
romance. Were I to advise you to leave Naples, would
you do so while Naples contains a foe to confront, or a
mistress to pursue ? "

" You are right," said the young Englishman , with

energy. " No ! and you cannot reproach me for such a
resolution. "
" But there is another course left to you : do you love
Viola Pisani truly and fervently ? if so , marry her, and
take a bride to your native land. "
" Nay," answered Glyndon, embarrassed ; " Viola is
not of my rank. Her profession, too, is - in short, I am
enslaved by her beauty, but I cannot wed her."
Zanoni frowned.
 ZANONI . 133

" Your love, then, is but selfish lust, and I advise you
to your own happiness no more. Young man, Destiny
is less inexorable than it appears. The resources of the

great Ruler of the Universe are not so scanty and so stern

as to deny to men the divine privilege of Free Will ; all
of us can carve out our own way, and God can make our
very contradictions harmonize with His solemn ends. You
have before you an option. Honorable and generous love
may even now work out your happiness, and effect your
escape ; a frantic and selfish passion will but lead you to
misery and doom. "
"Do you pretend then to read the Future ? "
" I have said all that it pleases me to utter. "
" While you assume the moralist to me, Signor Za-
noni, " said Glyndon, with a smile, " are you yourself so
indifferent to youth and beauty, as to act the stoic to its
allurements ? "
"If it were necessary that practice square with pre-
cept," said Zanoni, with a bitter smile, " our monitors
would be but few. The conduct of the individual can
affect but a small circle beyond himself ; the permanent
good or evil that he works to others lies rather in the
sentiments he can diffuse. His acts are limited and mo-

mentary ; his sentiments may pervade the universe, and

inspire generations till the day of doom. All our virtues,
all our laws, are drawn from books and maxims, which
are sentiments, not from deeds. In conduct, Julian had
the virtues of a Christian, and Constantine the vices of a
Pagan. The sentiments of Julian re-converted thousands
I. - 12
134 ZANONI .

to Paganism ; those of Constantine helped, under Hea-

ven's will, to bow to Christianity the nations of the earth .
In conduct, the humblest fisherman on yonder sea, who
believes in the miracles of San Gennaro, may be a better
man than Luther ; to the sentiments of Luther the mind
of modern Europe is indebted for the noblest revolution
it has known. Our opinions, young Englishman, are the
angel part of us ; our acts, the earthly. "
"You have reflected deeply for an Italian , " said Glyndon .
""
'Who told you that I was an Italian ? "
"Are you not ? And yet, when I hear you speak my
own language as a native, I ”
" Tush ! "interrupted Zanoni , impatiently turning away.
Then, after a pause, he resumed in a mild voice-“ Glyn-
don, do you renounce Viola Pisani ? Will you take some
days to consider what I have said ? "
" Renounce her- never ! "
" Then you will marry her ? "
"Impossible !"
"Be it so she will then renounce you. I tell you .
that you have rivals. "
" Yes ; the Prince di ; but I do not fear him. "
" You have another. whom you will fear more. "
"And who is he ?
"Myself. "
Glyndon turned pale, and started from his seat.
"You, Signor Zanoni ! -you - and you dare to tell
me so ? "
"" Dare ! Alas ! there are times when I wish that I

could fear. "

 ZANONI . 135

These arrogant words were not uttered arrogantly, but

in a tone of the most mournful dejection. Glyndon was
enraged, confounded, and yet awed . However, he had a
brave English heart within his breast, and he recovered
himself quickly .
""
Signor," said he , calmly, " I am not to be duped by
these solemn phrases and these mystical assumptions.
You may have powers which I cannot comprehend or
emulate, or you may be but a keen impostor. "
"Well, proceed ! "
""
' I mean, then, " continued Glyndon , resolutely, though
somewhat disconcerted , " I mean you to understand , that,
though I am not to be persuaded or compelled by a
stranger to marry Viola Pisani , I am not the less deter-
mined never tamely to yield her to another. "
Zanoni looked gravely at the young man, whose spark-
ling eyes and heightened color testified the spirit to sup-
port his words, and replied-" So bold ! well ; it becomes
you . But take my advice : wait yet nine days, and tell
me then if you will marry the fairest and the purest
creature that ever crossed your path."
99
But if you love her, why - why
'Why am I anxious that she should wed another ? to
save her from myself ! Listen to me. That girl, humble
and uneducated though she be, has in her the seeds of the
most lofty qualities and virtues . She can be all to the
man she loves --- all that man can desire in wife. Her
soul, developed by affection, will elevate your own ; it
will influence your fortunes, exalt your destiny : you will
136 ZANONI .

become a great and a prosperous man. If, on the con-

trary, she fall to me, I know not what may be her lot ;
but I know that there is an ordeal which few can pass,
and which hitherto no woman has survived. "

As Zanoni spoke, his face became colorless, and there

was something in his voice that froze the warm blood of
the listener.
" What is this mystery which surrounds you ? " ex-
claimed Glyndon , unable to repress his emotion. "Are
you, in truth, different from other men ? Have you passed
the boundary of lawful knowledge ? Are you, as some
99
declare, a sorcerer, or only a
" Hush ! " interrupted Zanoni, gently, and with a smile
of singular but melancholy sweetness : "have you earned
the right to ask me these questions ? Though Italy still
boast an Inquisition , its power is rivelled as a leaf which
the first wind shall scatter. The days of torture and

persecution are over ; and a man may live as he pleases,

and talk as it suits him, without fear of the stake and the
rack. Since I can defy persecution , pardon me if I do
not yield to curiosity. "
Glyndon blushed , and rose. In spite of his love for
Viola, and his natural terror of such a rival, he felt him-
self irresistibly drawn towards the very man he had most
cause to suspect and dread. He held out his hand to
Zanoni, saying, " Well, then, if we are to be rivals, our
swords must settle our rights : till then, I would fain be
friends."
"Friends ! You know not what you ask. "
 ZANONI . 137
"
Enigmas again ! "
' Enigmas ! " cried Zanoni , passionately, " ay ! can you
dare to solve them ? Not till then could I give you my

right hand, and call you friend . ”

" I could dare everything and all things for the attain-
ment of superhuman wisdom, " said Glyndon ; and his
countenance was lighted up with wild and intense en-
thusiasm.
Zanoni observed him in thoughtful silence.
" The seeds of the ancestor live in the son, " he mut-
tered ; "he may-yet " He broke off abruptly ; then,
speaking aloud- " Go, Glyndon ," said he ; " we shall
meet again, but I will not ask your answer till the hour
presses for decision. ”

CHAPTER VI .

'Tis certain that this man has an estate of fifty thousand livres,
and seems to be a person of very great accomplishments. But,
then, if he's a Wizard, are wizards so devoutly given as this man
seems to be ?-In short, I could make neither head nor tail on't.
-THE COUNT DE GABALIS , Translation affixed to the Second Edition
of the " Rape of the Lock."

Or all the weaknesses which little men rail against,

there is none that they are more apt to ridicule than the
tendency to believe. And of all the signs of a corrupt
heart and a feeble head , the tendency of incredulity is the
surest.
Real philosophy seeks rather to solve than to deny.
12 *
138 ZANONI .

While we hear, every day, the small pretenders to science

talk of the absurdities of Alchemy and the dream of the
Philosopher's Stone, a more erudite knowledge is aware
that by Alchemists the greatest discoveries in science
have been made, and much which still seems abstruse, had
we the key to the mystic phraseology they were com-
pelled to adopt, might open the way to yet more noble
acquisitions. The Philosopher's Stone itself has seemed
no visionary chimera to some of the soundest chemists
that even the present century has produced . * Man can-
not contradict the Laws of Nature. But are all the Laws

of Nature yet discovered ?

" Give me a proof of your Art, " says the rational in-
66
quirer. 'When I have seen the effect, I will endeavor,
99
with you, to ascertain the causes.
Somewhat to the above effect were the first thoughts
of Clarence Glyndon on quitting Zanoni. But Clarence
Glyndon was no " rational inquirer. " The more vague
and mysterious the language of Zanoni , the more it im-
posed upon him. A proof would have been something
tangible, with which he would have sought to grapple.
And it would have only disappointed his curiosity to find
the supernatural reduced to Nature. He endeavored , in

* Mr. D'Israeli, in his " Curiosities of Literature " (Article Al-

chem), after quoting the sanguine judgments of modern chemists,
as to the transmutation of metals, observes, of one yet greater and
more recent than those to which Glyndon's thoughts could have
referred. — “ Sir Humphry Davy told me that he did not consider
this undiscovered art as impossible ; but should it ever be dis-
covered, it would certainly be useless. "
 ZANONI . 139
L
vain, at some moments rousing himself from credulity to
the skepticism he deprecated, to reconcile what he had
heard with the probable motives and designs of an im-
postór. Unlike Mesmer and Cagliostro , Zanoni, what-
ever his pretensions, did not make them a source of profit ;
nor was Glyndon's position or rank in life sufficient to
render any influence obtained over his mind , subservient
to schemes, whether of avarice or ambition. Yet, ever
and anon, with the suspicion of worldly knowledge, he
strove to persuade himself that Zanoni had at least some
sinister object in inducing him to what his English pride
and manner of thought considered a derogatory marriage
with the poor actress. Might not Viola and the Mystic
be in league with each other ? Might not all this jargon
of prophecy and menace be but artifices to dupe him ?
He felt an unjust resentment towards Viola, at her hav-
ing secured such an ally. But with that resentment was
mingled a natural jealousy. Zanoni threatened him with
rivalry. Zanoni , who , whatever his character or his arts,
possessed at least all the external attributes that dazzle
and command. Impatient of his own doubts, he plunged
into the society of such acquaintances as he had made at
Naples chiefly artists, like himself, men of letters, and
the rich commercialists, who were already vying with the
splendor, though debarred from the privileges, of the
nobles. From these he heard much of Zanoni, already
with them, as with the idler classes, an object of curiosity
and speculation.
He had noticed, as a thing remarkable, that Zanoni
140 ZANONI .

had conversed with him in English, and with a command

of the language so complete, that he might have passed
for a native. On the other hand , in Italian, Zanoni was

equally at ease. Glyndon found that it was the same in

languages less usually learned by foreigners. A painter
from Sweden, who had conversed with him, was positive
that he was a Swede ; and a merchant from Constanti-
nople, who had sold some of his goods to Zauoni, pro-
fessed his conviction that none but a Turk, or at least a
native of the East, could have so thoroughly mastered
the soft Oriental intonations. Yet, in all these languages,
when they came to compare their several recollections,
there was a slight, scarce perceptible distinction, not in
pronunciation, nor even accent, but in the key and chime,
as it were, of the voice, between himself and a native.
This faculty was one which Glyndon called to mind, that
sect, whose tenets and powers have never been more than
most partially explored , the Rosicrusians, especially arro-
gated. He remembered to have heard in Germany of the
work of John Bringeret, * asserting that all the languages
of the earth were known to the genuine Brotherhood of
the Rosy Cross. Did Zanoni belong to this mystical
Fraternity, who, in an earlier age, boasted of secrets of
which the Philosopher's Stone was but the least ; who
considered themselves the heirs of all that the Chaldæans ,
the Magi, the Gymnosophists, and the Platonists had
taught ; and who differed from all the darker Sons of
Magic in the virtue of their lives, the purity of their doc-
* Printed in 1615.
 ZANONI . 141

trines, and their insisting, as the foundation of all wisdom ,

on the subjugation of the senses, and the intensity of Re-
ligious Faith ?—a glorious sect, if they lied not ! And,
in truth, if Zanoni had powers beyond the race of worldly
sages, they seemed not unworthily exercised . The little
known of his life was in his favor. Some acts, not of

indiscriminate, but judicious generosity and beneficence,

were recorded ; in repeating which, still, however, the
narrators shook their heads, and expressed surprise how
a stranger should have possessed so minute a knowledge
of the quiet and obscure distresses he had relieved . Two
or three sick persons, when abandoned by their physicians,
he had visited and conferred with alone. They had re-
covered ; they ascribed to him their recovery ; yet they
could not tell by what medicines they had been healed.
They could only depose that he came, conversed with
them, and they were cured ; it usually, however, happened,
that a deep sleep had preceded the recovery.
Another circumstance was also beginning to be re-
marked, and spoke yet more in his commendation. Those
with whom he principally associated - the gay, the dissi-
pated, the thoughtless, the sinners and publicans of the
more polished world — all appeared rapidly, yet insensibly
to themselves, to awaken to purer thoughts and more
regulated lives . Even Cetoxa, the prince of gallants ,
duellists, and gamesters, was no longer the same man
since the night of the singular events which he had re-
lated to Glyndon . The first trace of his reform was in
his retirement from the gaming-houses ; the next was his
142 ZANONI .

reconciliation with an hereditary enemy of his house,

whom it had been his constant object for the last six
years to entangle in such a quarrel as might call forth
his inimitable manœuvre of the stoccata. Nor when
Cetoxa and his young companions were heard to speak
of Zanoni, did it seem that this change had been brought
about by any sober lectures or admonitions. They all
described Zanoni as a man keenly alive to enjoyment—
of manners, the reverse of formal- not precisely gay, but
equable, serene, and cheerful ; ever ready to listen to the
talk of others, however idle, or to charm all ears with an
inexhaustible fund of brilliant anecdote and worldly ex-
perience. All manners, all nations, all grades of men
seemed familiar to him. He was reserved only if allusion
were ever ventured to his birth or history. The more
general opinion of his origin certainly seemed the more
plausible. His riches, his familiarity with the languages
of the East, his residence in India, a certain gravity
which never deserted his most cheerful and familiar hours,
the lustrous darkness of his eyes and hair, and even the
peculiarities of his shape, in the delicate smallness of the
hands, and the Arab-like turn of the stately head, ap-
peared to fix him as belonging to one at least of the
Oriental races . And a dabbler in the Eastern tongues
even sought to reduce the simple name of Zanoni , which
a century before had been borne by an inoffensive natura-
list of Bologna, * to the radicals of the extinct language.
Zan was unquestionably the Chaldæan appellation for the

* The author of two works on botany and rare plants.

 ZANONI. 143

sun. Even the Greeks, who mutilated every Oriental name,

had retained the right one in this case, as the Cretan in-
scription on the tomb of Zeus* significantly showed . As
to the rest, the Zan, or Zaun, was, with the Sidonians, no
uncommon prefix to On . Adonis was but another name
for Zanonas, whose worship in Sidon Hesychius records.
To this profound and unanswerable derivation, Mervale
listened with great attention , and observed that he now
ventured to announce an erudite discovery he himself had
long since made ―viz . , that the numerous family of Smiths
in England were undoubtedly the ancient priests of the
Phrygian Apollo. " For, " said he, " was not Apollo's
surname, in Phrygia, Smintheus ? How clear all the
ensuing corruptions of the august name - Smintheus-
Smitheus - Smithé Smith ! And even now, I may re-
mark that the more ancient branches of that illustrious
family, unconsciously anxious to approximate at least by
a letter nearer to the true title, take a pious pleasure in
writing their names Smithe ! "
The Philologist was much struck with this discovery,
and begged Mervale's permission to note it down as an
illustration suitable to a work he was about to publish on
the origin of languages, to be called " Babel, " and pub-
lished in three quartos by subscription.

* Ωδε μεγας κειται Ζαν. ( α ) — Cyril contra Julian.

(a) Here lies great Jove.

 144 ZANONI.

CHAPTER VII .

Learn to be poor in spirit, my son, if you would penetrate that

sacred night which environs truth. Learn of the Sages to allow
to the Devils no power in nature, since the fatal stone has shut
P ' em up in the depth of the abyss. Learn of the Philosophers al-
ways to look for natural causes in all extraordinary events ; and
when such natural causes are wanting, recur to God. - THE
COUNT DE GABALIS .

ALL these additions to his knowledge of Zanoni, picked

up in the various lounging-places and resorts that he fre-
quented, were unsatisfactory to Glyndon. That night
Viola did not perform at the theatre ; and the next day,
still disturbed by bewildered fancies, and averse to the
sober and sarcastic companionship of Mervale, Glyndon
sauntered musingly into the public gardens, and paused
beneath the very tree under which he had first heard the
voice that had exercised upon his mind so singular an
influence. The gardens were deserted . He threw him-
self on one of the seats placed beneath the shade ; and
again, in the midst of his reverie, the same cold shudder
came over him which Zanoni had so distinctly defined ,
and to which he had ascribed so extraordinary a cause.
He roused himself with a sudden effort, and started to
see, seated next him, a figure hideous enough to have
personated one of the malignant beings of whom Zanoni
had spoken. It was a small man, dressed in a fashion
 ΖΑΝΟΝΙ . 145

strikingly at variance with the elaborate costume of the

day : an affectation of homeliness and poverty approach-
ing to squalor, in the loose trowsers, coarse as a ship's
sail - in the rough jacket, which appeared rent wilfully
into holes - and the black, ragged, tangled locks that
streamed from their confinement under a woollen cap, ac-
corded but ill with other details which spoke of compara-
tive wealth. The shirt, open at the throat, was fastened
by a brooch of gaudy stones ; and two pendent massive
gold chains announced the foppery of two watches.
The man's figure, if not absolutely deformed, was yet
marvellously ill-favored ; his shoulders high and square ;
his chest flattened , as if crushed in ; his gloveless hands
were knotted at the joints, and large, bony and muscular,
dangled from lean, emaciated wrists, as if not belonging
to them. His features had the painful distortion some-
times seen in the countenance of a cripple- large, exag-
gerated , with the nose nearly touching the chin the eyes
small, but glowing with a cunning fire as they dwelt on
Glyndon ; and the mouth was twisted into a grin that
displayed rows of jagged , black, broken teeth . Yet over
this frightful face there still played a kind of disagreeable
intelligence, an expression at once astute and bold ; and
as Glyndon, recovering from the first impression , looked
again at his neighbor, he blushed at his own dismay, and
recognized a French artist, with whom he had formed an
acquaintance, and who was possessed of no inconsiderable
talents in his calling. Indeed , it was to be remarked that
this creature, whose externals were so deserted by the
I. M 13 K
146 ZANONI.

Graces, particularly delighted in designs aspiring to ma-

jesty and grandeur. Though his coloring was hard and
shallow, as was that generally of the French school at
the time, his drawings were admirable for symmetry,
simple elegance, and classic vigor ; at the same time they
unquestionably wanted ideal grace. He was fond of se-
lecting subjects from Roman History, rather than from
the copious world of Grecian beauty, or those still more
sublime stories of scriptural record from which Rafaele
and Michael Angelo borrowed their inspirations. His
grandeur was that, not of gods and saints, but mortals.
His delineation of beauty was that which the eye cannot
blame and the soul does not acknowledge. In a word,
as it was said of Dionysius, he was an Anthropographos,
or Painter of Men. It was also a notable contradiction

in this person, who was addicted to the most extravagant

excesses in every passion, whether of hate or love, im-
placable in revenge, and insatiable in debauch, that he
was in the habit of uttering the most beautiful sentiments
of exalted purity and genial philanthropy. The world
was not good enough for him ; he was, to use the ex-
pressive German phrase, a world-betterer ! Neverthe-
less, his sarcastic lip often seemed to mock the sentiments
he uttered , as if it sought to insinuate that he was above
even the world he would construct.

Finally, this painter was in close correspondence with

the Republicans of Paris, and was held to be one of those
missionaries whom, from the earliest period of the Revo-
lution, the regenerators of mankind were pleased to des-
 ZANONI . 147

patch to the various states yet shackled, whether by

actual tyranny, or wholesome laws. Certainly as the
historian of Italy * has observed, there was no city in
Italy where these new doctrines would be received with
greater favor than Naples, partly from the lively temper
of the people, principally because the most hateful feudal
privileges, however partially curtailed some years before
by the great minister, Tanuccini, still presented so many
daily and practical evils as to make change wear a more
substantial charm than the mere and meretricious bloom
on the cheek of the harlot Novelty. This man, whom
I will call Jean Nicot, was, therefore, an oracle among
the younger and bolder spirits of Naples ; and before
Glyndon had met Zanoni, the former had not been among
the least dazzled by the eloquent aspirations of the hide-
ous Philanthropist.
" It is so long since we have met, cher confrère,” said
Nicot, drawing his seat nearer to Glyndon's, "that you
cannot be surprised that I see you with delight, and even
take the liberty to intrude on your meditations. "
" They were of no agreeable nature," said Glyndon ;
" and never was intrusion more welcome. "
" You will be charmed to hear," said Nicot, drawing
several letters from his bosom, " that the good work pro-
ceeds with marvellous rapidity. Mirabeau, indeed, is no
more ; but, mort Diable ! the French people are now a
Mirabeau themselves." With this remark, Monsieur Nicot

* Botta .
148 ΖΑΝΟΝΙ .

proceeded to read and to comment upon several animated

and interesting passages in his correspondence, in which
the word Virtue was introduced twenty- seven times, and
God not once. And then, warmed by the cheering pros-
pects thus opened to him, he began to indulge in those
anticipations of the future, the outline of which we have
already seen in the eloquent extravagance of Condorcet.
All the Old Virtues were dethroned for a new Pantheon :
Patriotism was a narrow sentiment ; Philanthropy was
to be its successor. No love that did not embrace all
mankind , as warm for Indus and the Pole as for the

hearth of home, was worthy the breast of a generous man .

Opinion was to be free as air ; and in order to make it
so, it was necessary to exterminate all those whose opin-
ions were not the same as Mons. Jean Nicot's. Much
of this amused, much revolted Glyndon ; but when the
Painter turned to dwell upon a science that all should
comprehend -and the results of which all should enjoy,
-a science that, springing from the soil of equal insti-
tutions and equal mental cultivation, should give to all
the races of men wealth without labor, and a life longer
than the Patriarchs', without care,-then Glyndon listened.
with interest and admiration, not unmixed with awe.
66 Observe," said Nicot, " how much that we now cherish

as a virtue will then be rejected as meanness. Our op-

pressors, for instance, preach to us of the excellence of
gratitude. Gratitude, the confession of inferiority ! What
so hateful to a noble spirit as the humiliating sense of
obligation ? But where there is equality there can be no
 ZANONI . 149

means for power thus to enslave merit. The benefactor

and the client will alike cease, and
"And in the mean time, " said a low voice, at hand,
" in the mean time, Jean Nicot ? "
The two artists started , and Glyndon recognized Zanoni .
He gazed with a brow of unusual sternness on Nicot,
who, lumped together as he sat , looked up at him askew,
and with an expression of fear and dismay upon his dis-
torted countenance.
Ho, ho ! Messire Jean Nicot, thou who fearest neither
God nor Devil, why fearest thou the eye of a man ?
" It is not the first time I have been a witness to your
opinions on the infirmity of gratitude, " said Zanoni.
Nicot suppressed an exclamation , and, after gloomily
surveying Zanoni with an eye villanous and sinister, but
full of hate impotent and unutterable, said , " I know you
not what would you of me ? "
"Your absence. Leave us ! "
Nicot sprung forward a step, with hands clenched , and
showing his teeth from ear to ear, like a wild beast in-
censed. Zanoni stood motionless, and smiled at him in
scorn. Nicot halted abruptly, as if fixed and fascinated
by the look, shivered from head to foot, and sullenly, and
with a visible effort, as if impelled by a power not his
own, turned away.
Glyndon's eyes followed him in surprise.
"And what know you of this man ? " said Zanoni.
" I know him as one like myself . a follower of art. "
" Of ART ! Do not so profane that glorious word.
13 *
150 ZANONI .

What nature is to God, Art should be to Man- a sublime,

beneficent, genial, and warm creation . That wretch may
be a painter, not an artist. "
"And pardon me if I ask what you know of one you
thus disparage ? "
" I know thus much, that you are beneath my care if
it be necessary to warn you against him ; his own lips
show the hideousness of his heart. Why should I tell
you of the crimes he has committed ! He speaks crime ! "
" You do not seem, Signor Zanoni, to be one of the
admirers of the dawning Revolution. Perhaps you are
prejudiced against the man because you dislike the opin-
ions ? "
"What opinions ? "
Glyndon paused, somewhat puzzled to define ; but at
length he said, " Nay, I must wrong you ; for you, of all
men, I suppose, cannot discredit the doctrine that preaches
the infinite improvement of the human species. "
" You are right ; the few in every age improve the
many ; the many now may be as wise as the few were ;
but improvement is at a stand-still, if you tell me that the
many now are as wise as the few are. "
66
' I comprehend you ; you will not allow the law of
universal equality ! "
" Law ! If the whole world conspired to enforce the
falsehood, they could not make it law. Level all condi-
tions to-day, and you only smooth away all obstacles to
tyranny to-morrow. A nation that aspires to equality is
unfit for freedom. Throughout all creation, from the
 ZANONI . 151

archangel to the worm, - from Olympus to the pebble, -

from the radiant and completed planet to the nebula that
hardens through ages of mist and slime into the habitable
world, the first law of nature is inequality. "
" Harsh doctrine, if applied to states. Are the cruel
disparities of life never to be removed ? "
" Disparities of the physical life ? Oh, let us hope so.
But disparities of the intellectual and the moral, never !
Universal equality of intelligence , of mind, of genius, of
virtue ! —no teacher left to the world ! no men wiser,
better than others - were it not an impossible condition ,
what a hopeless prospect for humanity ! No ; while the
world lasts, the sun will gild the mountain-top before it
shines upon the plain. Diffuse all the knowledge the
earth contains equally over all mankind to- day, and some
men will be wiser than the rest to -morrow. And this is
not a harsh, but a loving law,-the real law of Improve-
ment ; the wiser the few in one generation, the wiser will
be the multitude the next ! "
As Zanoni thus spoke, they moved on through the
smiling gardens, and the beautiful bay lay sparkling in
the noontide. A gentle breeze just cooled the sunbeam,
and stirred the ocean ; and in the inexpressible clearness
of the atmosphere, there was something that rejoiced the
senses. The very soul seemed to grow lighter and purer
in that lucid air.
"And these men, to commence their era of improvement
and equality, are jealous even of the Creator. They
 152 ZANONI .

would deny an Intelligence - a God ! " said Zanoni, as

if involuntarily. " Are you an Artist, and, looking on the
world, can you listen to such a dogma ? Between God
and Genius there is a necessary link -there is almost a
correspondent language. Well said the Pythagorean , *
A good intellect is the chorus of divinity.""
Struck and touched with these sentiments, which he
little expected to fall from one to whom he ascribed those
powers which the superstitions of childhood ascribe to
the darker agencies, Glyndon said : "And yet you have
confessed that your life, separated from that of others, is
one that man should dread to share. Is there, then, a
connection between magic and religion ? "
" Magic ! And what is magic ? When the traveller
beholds in Persia the ruins of palaces and temples, the
ignorant inhabitants inform him they were the work of
magicians ! What is beyond their own power, the vulgar
cannot comprehend to be lawfully in the power of others.
But if by magic you mean a perpetual research amongst
all that is latent or obscure in nature, I answer, I profess
that magic, and that he who does so comes but nearer to
the fountain of all belief. Knowest thou not that magic
was taught in the schools of old ? But how, and by
whom ? as the last and most solemn lesson, by the Priests
who ministered to the Temple.† And you, who would
be a painter, is not there a magic also in that art you
would advance ? Must you not, after long study of the

* Sextus, the Pythagorean. Psellus de Dæmon. (MS.)

 ZANONI . 153

Beautiful that has been, seize upon new and airy combi-
nations of a beauty that is to be ? See you not that The
Grander Art, whether of poet or of painter, ever seeking
for the TRUE, abhors the REAL ; that you must seize Nature
as her master, not lackey her as her slave ? You demand
mastery over the past, a conception of the future. Has
not the Art that is truly noble, for its domain the Future
and the Past ? You would conjure the invisible beings
to your charm ; and what is painting but the fixing into
substance the Invisible ? Are you discontented with this
world ? This world was never meant for genius ! To
exist, it must create another. What magician can do
more ; nay, what science can do as much ? There are two
avenues from the little passions and the drear calamities
of earth ; both lead to heaven, and away from hell - Art
and Science. But art is more god-like than science ;
science discovers, art creates. You have faculties that
may command art ; be contented with your lot. The
astronomer who catalogues the stars cannot add one atom
to the universe ; the poet can call an universe from the
atom ; the chemist may heal with his drugs the infirmities
of the human form ; the painter, or the sculptor, fixes
into everlasting youth forms divine, which no disease can
ravage, and no years impair. Renounce those wandering
fancies that lead you now to myself, and now to yon orator
of the human race ; to us two, who are the antipodes of
each other ! Your pencil is your wand ; your canvas
may raise Utopias fairer than Condorcet dreams of. I
154 ZANONI .

press not yet for your decision ; but what man of genius
ever asked more to cheer his path to the grave, than love
and glory ? "
""
' But," said Glyndon , fixing his eyes earnestly on
99
Zanoni, " ifthere be a power to baffle the grave itself-
Zanoni's brow darkened. "And were this so, " he said,
after a pause , "would it be so sweet a lot to outlive all

you loved, and to recoil from every human tie ? Perhaps

the fairest immortality on earth is that of a noble name. "
" You do not answer me - you equivocate . I have
read of the long lives far beyond the date common expe-
rience assigns to man, " persisted Glyndon , " which some
of the alchymists enjoyed . Is the golden elixir but a
fable ?" ·
" If not, and these men discovered it, they died, because
they refused to live ! There may be a mournful warning
in your conjecture. Turn once more to the easel and the
canvas ! "
So saying, Zanoni waved his hand, and , with downcast
eyes and a slow step, bent his way back into the city.
 ZANONI . 155

CHAPTER VIII.

THE GODDESS WISDOM.

To some she is the goddess great ;

To some the milch cow of the field ;
Their care is but to calculate
What butter she will yield.
From SCHILler.

THIS last conversation with Zanoni left upon the mind

of Glyndon a tranquillizing and salutary effect. From

the confused mists of his fancy glittered forth again those

happy, golden schemes which part from the young ambi-
tion of art, to play in the air, to illumine the space, like
rays that kindle from the sun. And with these projects
mingled also the vision of a love purer and serener than
his life yet had known. His mind went back into that
fair childhood of genius, when the forbidden fruit is not
yet tasted, and we know of no land beyond the Eden
which is gladdened by an Eve . Insensibly before him rose
the scenes of a home , with his art sufficing for all excite-
ment, and Viola's love circling occupation with happiness
and content ; and in the midst of these phantasies of a
future that might be at his command , he was recalled to
the present by the clear strong voice of Mervale, the man
of common sense.
Whoever has studied the lives of persons in whom the
 156 ZANON!.

imagination is stronger than the will, who suspect their

own knowledge of actual life, and are aware of their facil-
ity to impressions, - will have observed the influence
which a homely, vigorous, worldly understanding obtains
over such natures. It was thus with Glyndon . His friend
had often extricated him from danger, and saved him
from the consequences of imprudence : and there was
something in Mervale's voice alone that damped his enthu-
siasm , and often made him yet more ashamed of noble
impulses than weak conduct. For Mervale, though a
downright honest man, could not sympathize with the
extravagance of generosity any more than with that of
presumption and credulity. He walked the straight line
·
of life, and felt an equal contempt for the man who wan-
dered up the hill-sides, no matter whether to chase a
butterfly, or to catch a prospect of the ocean .
" I will tell you your thoughts, Clarence," said Mervale,
laughing, " though I am no Zanoni. I know them by the
moisture of your eyes, and the half-smile on your lips.
You are musing upon that fair perdition-the little singer
of San Carlo ."
The little singer of San Carlo ! Glyndon colored as
he answered ,-
" Would you speak thus of her if she were my wife ? "
"No ! for then any contempt I might venture to feel
would be for yourself. One may dislike the duper, but
it is the dupe that one despises. "
"Are you sure that I should be the dupe in such an
union ? Where can I find one so lovely and so innocent
 ZANONI . 157

where one whose virtue has been tried by such tempta-

tion ? Does even a single breath of slander sully the
name of Viola Pisani ? "

" I know not all the gossip of Naples, and therefore

cannot answer ; but I know this, that in England no one
would believe that a young Englishman, of good fortune,
and respectable birth, who marries a singer from the
theatre of Naples , has not been lamentably taken in. I
would save you from a fall of position so irretrievable.
Think how many mortifications you will be subjected to ;
how many young men will visit at your house ; and how
many young wives will as carefully avoid it. "
" I can choose my own career, to which commonplace
society is not essential. I can owe the respect of the
world to my art, and not to the accidents of birth and
fortune. "
" That is, you still persist in your second folly - the
absurd ambition of daubing canvas. Heaven forbid I
should say anything against the laudable industry of one
who follows such a profession for the sake of subsistence ;
but with means aud connections that will raise you in
life, why voluntarily sink into a mere artist ? As an
accomplishment in leisure moments, it is all very well in
its way ; but as the occupation of existence, it is a frenzy. "
"Artists have been the friends of princes. "
" Very rarely so, I fancy , in sober England. There,
in the great centre of political aristocracy, what men
respect is the practical, not the ideal. Just suffer me to
draw two pictures of my own . Clarence Glyndon returns
I. — 14
 158 ZANONI .

to England ; he marries a lady of fortune equal to his

own, of friends and parentage that advance rational ambi-
tion. Clarence Glyndon, thus a wealthy and respectable
man, of good talents, of bustling energies then concen-
trated, enters into practical life. He has a house at which
he can receive those whose acquaintance is both advan-
tage and honor ; he has leisure which he can devote to
useful studies ; his reputation, built on a solid base, grows
in men's mouths. He attaches himself to a party ; he
enters political life ; his new connections serve to promote
his objects. At the age of five-and-forty, what, in all
probability, may Clarence Glyndon be ? Since you are
ambitious, I leave that question for you to decide ! Now
turn to the other picture. Clarence Glyndon returns to
England with a wife who can bring him no money, unless
he lets her out on the stage ; so handsome , that every
one asks who she is, and every one hears -the celebrated
singer, Pisani. Clarence Glyndon shuts himself up to
grind colors and paint pictures in the grand historical
school, which nobody buys. There is even a prejudice
against him, as not having studied in the Academy — as
being an amateur. Who is Mr. Clarence Glyndon ? Oh !
the celebrated Pisani's husband ! What else ? Oh ! he
exhibits those large pictures. Poor man ! they have
merit in their way ; but Teniers and Watteau are more
convenient, and almost as cheap. Clarence Glyndon , with
an easy fortune while single, has a large family, which his
fortune, unaided by marriage, can just rear up to callings
more plebeian than his own. He retires into the country,
 ZANONI . 159

to save and to paint ; he grows slovenly and discontented ;

' the world does not appreciate him, ' he says, and he runs
away from the world. At the age of forty-five, what will
be Clarence Glyndon ? Your ambition shall decide that
question also ! "
" If all men were as worldly as you," said Glyndon ,
rising , "there would never have been an artist or a poet ! "
""
Perhaps we should do just as well without them,"
answered Mervale. " Is it not time to think of dinner ?
The mullets here are remarkably fine ! "

CHAPTER IX .

Wollt ihr hoch auf ihren Flugeln schweben,

Werft die Angst des Irdischen von euch !
Fliehet aus dem engen dumpfen Leben
In des Ideales Reich !
DAS IDEAL UND DAS Leben.

Wouldst thou soar heaven-ward on its joyous wing?

Cast off the earthly burden of the Real ;
High from this cramp'd and dungeon'd being, spring
Into the realm of the Ideal.

As some injudicious master lowers and vitiates the

taste of the student by fixing his attention to what he
falsely calls the Natural, but which , in reality , is the Com-
monplace, and understands not that beauty in art is crea-
ted by what Rafaele so well describes - viz. , the idea of
beauty in the painter's own mind ; and that in every art,
160 ZANONI .

whether its plastic expression be found in words or mar-

ble, colors or sounds, the servile imitation of nature is the
work of journeymen and tyros ; - so in conduct the man
of the world vitiates and lowers the bold enthusiasm of
loftier natures by the perpetual reduction of whatever is
generous and trustful to all that is trite and coarse. A
great German poet has well defined the distinction be-
tween discretion and the larger wisdom. In the last there
is a certain rashness which the first disdains —

" The purblind see but the receding shore,

Not that to which the bold wave wafts them o'er. ”

Yet in this logic of the prudent and the worldly there

is often a reasoning unanswerable of its kind.
You must have a feeling - a faith in whatever is self-
sacrificing and divine - whether in religion or in art, in
glory or in love- or Common- sense will reason you out
of the sacrifice, and a syllogism will debase The Divine.
to an article in the market.
Every true critic in art , from Aristotle and Pliny-from
Winkelman and Vasari, to Reynolds and Fuseli, has
sought to instruct the painter that Nature is not to be
copied, but exalted ; that the loftiest order of art, selecting
only the loftiest combinations, is the perpetual struggle
of Humanity to approach the Gods. The great painter,
as the great author, embodies what is possible to man, it
is true, but what is not common to mankind. There is
truth in Hamlet ; in Macbeth, and his witches ; in Des-
demona ; in Othello ; in Prospero, and in Caliban ; there
is truth in the Cartoons of Rafaele ; there is truth in the
 ZANONI . 161

Apollo, the Antinoüs, and the Laocoön. But you do not

meet the originals of the words, the cartoons , or the
marble, in Oxford Street or St. James. All these, to
return to Rafaele, are the creatures of the idea in the
artist's mind . This idea is not inborn ; it has come from
an intense study. But that study has been of the ideal ,
that can be raised from the positive and the actual into
grandeur and beauty. The commonest model becomes
full of exquisite suggestions to him who has formed this
idea ; a Venus of flesh and blood would be vulgarized by
the imitation of him who has not.
When asked where he got his models , Guido summoned
a common porter from his calling, and drew from a mean
original a head of surpassing beauty. It resembled the
porter, but idealized the porter to the hero. It was true,
but it was not real. There are critics who will tell you
that the Boor of Teniers is more true to nature than the
Porter of Guido ! The commonplace public scarcely
understand the idealizing principle, even in art ; for high
art is an acquired taste.
But to come to my comparison. Still less is the kin-
dred principle comprehended in conduct. And the advice
of worldly Prudence would as often deter from the risks
of Virtue as from the punishments of Vice ; yet in con-
duct, as in art, there is an idea of the great and beautiful,
by which men should exalt the hackneyed and the trite
of life. Now, Glyndon felt the sober prudence of Mer-
vale's reasonings ; he recoiled from the probable picture
placed before him, in his devotion to the one master- talent
14 * L
162 ZANONI .

he possessed, and the one master- passion that, rightly

directed, might purify his whole being as a strong wind
purifies the air.
But though he could not bring himself to decide in
the teeth of so rational a judgment, neither could he re-
solve at once to abandon the pursuit of Viola. Fearful
of being influenced by Zanoni's counsels and his own
heart, he had for the last two days shunned an interview
with the young actress . But after a night following his
last conversation with Zanoni, and that we have just re-
corded with Mervale -― a night colored by dreams so dis-
tinct as to seem prophetic - dreams that appeared so to
shape his future according to the hints of Zanoni, that he
could have fancied Zanoni himself had sent them from the
house of sleep to haunt his pillow, he resolved once more
to seek Viola ; and though without a definite or distinct
object, he yielded himself up to the impulse of his heart.

CHAPTER X.

O sollecito dubbio e fredda tema

Che pensando l'accrcsci. *
TASSO, Canzone vi.

SHE was seated outside her door- - the young actress !

The sea before her in that heavenly bay seemed literally
to sleep in the arms of the shore ; while, to the right, not

* O anxious doubt and chilling fear, that grows by thinking.

 ZANONI. 163

far off, rose the dark and tangled crags to which the
traveller of to-day is duly brought to gaze on the tomb
of Virgil, or compare with the cavern of Posilipo the
archway of Highgate Hill. There were a few fishermen
loitering by the cliffs, on which their nets were hung to
dry ; and at a distance, the sound of some rustic pipe
(more common at that day than at this) mingled now
and then with the bells of the lazy mules, broke the vo-
luptuous silence- the silence of declining noon on the
shores of Naples ; -never, till you have enjoyed it, never
until you have felt its enervating, but delicious charm ,
believe that you can comprehend all the meaning of the
Dolcefar niente ; * and when that luxury has been known,
when you have breathed that atmosphere of faëry land ,
then you will no longer wonder why the heart ripens into
fruit so sudden and so rich beneath the rosy skies and
the glorious sunshine of the south.
The eyes of the actress were fixed on the broad blue

deep beyond . In the unwonted negligence of her dress

might be traced the abstraction of her mind. Her beau-
tiful hair was gathered up loosely, and partially bandaged
by a kerchief, whose purple color served to deepen the
golden hue of her tresses. A stray curl escaped , and fell
down the graceful neck. A loose morning robe, girded
by a sash, left the breeze, that came ever and anon from
the sea, to die upon the bust half disclosed ; and the tiny
slipper, that Cinderella might have worn, seemed a world
too wide for the tiny foot which it scarcely covered. It
* The pleasure of doing nothing.
 164 ZANONI .

might be the heat of the day that deepened the soft bloom
of the cheeks, and gave an unwonted languor to the large
dark eyes. In all the pomp of her stage attire - - in all
the flush of excitement before the intoxicating lamps --
never had Viola looked so lovely.
By the side of the actress, and filling up the threshold ,
stood Gionetta, with her arms thrust to the elbow in two
huge pockets on either side of her gown.
"But I assure you, " said the nurse, in that sharp, quick,
ear-splitting tone in which the old women of the south
are more than a match for those of the north, " but I as-
sure you, my darling, that there is not a finer cavalier in
all Naples, nor a more beautiful, than this Inglese ; and
I am told that all these Inglesi are much richer than they
seem. Though they have no trees in their country, poor
people ! and instead of twenty-four they have only twelve
hours to the day, yet I hear that they shoe their horses
with scudi ; and since they cannot (the poor heretics ! )
turn grapes into wine, for they have no grapes, they turn
gold into physic, and take a glass or two of pistoles
whenever they are troubled with the colic. But you don't
hear me, little pupil of my eyes, you don't hear me ! "
"And these things are whispered of Zanoni ! " said
Viola, half to herself, and unheeding Gionetta's eulogies
on Glyndon and the English.
"Blessed Maria ! do not talk of this terrible Zanoni.
You may be sure that his beautiful face, like his yet more
beautiful pistoles, is only witchcraft. I look at the money

44
74
 ZANONI . 165

he gave me the other night, every quarter of an hour, to

see whether it has not turned into pebbles. "
" Do you then really believe," said Viola, with timid
earnestness , that sorcery still exists ? "
"Believe !-Do I believe in the blessed San Gennaro ?
How do you think he cured old Filippo the fisherman ,
when the doctor gave him up ? How do you think he
has managed himself to live at least these three hundred
years ? How do you think he fascinates every one to his
bidding with a look, as the vampires do ? "
"" Ah, is this only witchcraft ? It is like it-- -it must

be !" murmured Viola, turning very pale. Gionetta her-

self was scarcely more superstitious than the daughter of
the musician. And her very innocence, chilled at the
strangeness of virgin passion , might well ascribe to magic
what hearts more experienced would have resolved to love.
" And then, why has this great Prince di been so
terrified by him ? Why has he ceased to persecute us ?
Why has he been so quiet and still ? Is there no sorcery
in all that ? "
" Think you, then, " said Viola, with sweet inconsis-
tency, " that I owe that happiness and safety to his pro-
tection ? Oh, let me so believe ! Be silent, Gionetta !
Why have I only thee and my own terrors to consult ? O
beautiful sun ! " and the girl pressed her hand to her heart
with wild energy ; " thou lightest every spot but this.
Go, Gionetta ! leave me alone - leave me ! "
" And indeed it is time I should leave you ; for the
polenta will be spoiled , and you have eat nothing all
166 ZANONI .

day. If you don't eat, you will lose your beauty, my

darling, and then nobody will care for you. Nobody
cares for us when we grow ugly ; I know that ; and then
you must, like old Gionetta, get some Viola of your own
to spoil. I'll go and see to the polenta."
" Since I have known this man, " said the girl, half
aloud , " since his dark eyes have haunted me, I am no
longer the same. I long to escape from myself to glide
with the sunbeam over the hill-tops--to become some-

thing that is not of earth. Phantoms flit before me at

night ; and a fluttering, like the wing of a bird, within
my heart, seems as if the spirit were terrified, and would
break its cage. "
While murmuring these incoherent rhapsodies , a step
that she did not hear approached the actress, and a light
hand touched her arm.
- bellissima ! -
" Viola ! — — Viola ! "
She turned, and saw Glyndon. The sight of his fair
young face calmed her at once. His presence gave her
pleasure.
" Viola," said the Englishman, taking her hand, and
drawing her again to the bench from which she had risen,
as he seated himself beside her, " you shall hear me
speak ! You must know already that I love thee ! It
has not been pity or admiration alone that has led me
ever and ever to thy dear side ; reasons there may have
been why I have not spoken , save by my eyes, before ;
but this day C I know not how it is - I feel a more sus-
tained and settled courage to address thee, and learn the
 ZANONI . 167

happiest or the worst. I have rivals, I know- rivals who

are more powerful than the poor artist ; are they also
more favored ? "
Viola blushed faintly ; but her countenance was grave
and distressed. Looking down , and marking some hiero-
glyphical figures in the dust with the point of her slipper,
she said, with some hesitation, and a vain attempt to be
gay, " Signor, whoever wastes his thoughts on an actress
must submit to have rivals. It is our unhappy destiny
not to be sacred even to ourselves. "
" But you do not love this destiny, glittering though it
seem ; your heart is not in the vocation which your gifts
adorn."
66
' Ah, no ! " said the actress, her eyes filling with tears .
" Once I loved to be the priestess of song and music ; now
I feel only that it is a miserable lot to be slave to a mul-
titude. "
" Fly, then, with me, " said the artist, passionately ;
" quit for ever the calling that divides that heart I would
have all my own. Share my fate now and for ever - my
pride, my delight, my ideal ! Thou shalt inspire my can-
vas and my song ; thy beauty shall be made at once holy
and renowned. In the galleries of princes, crowds shall
gather round the effigy of a Venus or a Saint, and a whis-
per shall break forth, ' It is Viola Pisani !' Ah ! Viola,
I adore thee : tell me that I do not worship in vain. ”
" Thou art good and fair," said Viola, gazing on her
lover, as he pressed nearer to her, and clasped her hand
in his " But what should I give thee in return ? ”
168 ZANONI.

"Love - love - only love ! "

" A sister's love ?"
" Ah ! speak not with such cruel coldness ! "
" It is all I have for thee. Listen to me, signor : when
I look on your face, when I hear your voice, a certain
serene and tranquil calm creeps over and lulls thoughts-
oh how feverish, how wild ! When thou art gone, the
day seems a shade more dark ; but the shadow soon flies.
I miss thee not ; I think not of thee : no , I love thee not ;
and I will give myself only where I love. "
" But I would teach thee to love me : fear it not. Nay,
such love as thou describest, in our tranquil climates is
the love of innocence and youth. "
" Of innocence ! " said Viola. " Is it so ? Perhaps 99
-she paused, and added, with an effort, " Foreigner !
and wouldst thou wed the orphan ! Ah ! thou at least
art generous . It is not the innocence thou wouldst de-
stroy ! "
Glyndon drew back, conscience-stricken.
" No, it may not be ! " she said, rising, but not con-
scious of the thoughts, half of shame, half suspicion, that
passed through the mind of her lover. " Leave me, and
forget me. You do not understand, you could not com-
prehend, the nature of her whom you think to love. From
my childhood upward , I have felt as if I were marked out
for some strange and preternatural doom ; as if I were
singled from my kind . This feeling (and, oh ! at times it
is one of delirious and vague delight, at others of the
darkest gloom) deepens within me day by day. It is like
 ZANONI . 169

the shadow of twilight, spreading slowly and solemnly

around. My hour approaches : a little while, and it will
be night ! "
As she spoke, Glyndon listened with visible emotion
and perturbation. " Viola ! " he exclaimed, as she ceased ,
"your words more than ever enchain me to you. As you
feel, I feel. I, too , have been ever haunted with a chill
and unearthly foreboding. Amidst the crowds of men I
have felt alone. In all my pleasures , my toils, my pur-
suits, a warning voice has murmured in my ear, ' Time
has a dark mystery in store for thy manhood . ' When you
spoke, it was as the voice of my own soul ! "
Viola gazed upon him in mingled wonder and fear.
Her countenance was as white as marble : and those fea-
tures, so divine in their rare symmetry, might have served
the Greek with a study for the Pythoness, when, from the
mystic cavern and the bubbling spring, she first hears the
voice of the inspiring god. Gradually the rigor and ten-
sion of that wonderful face relaxed, the color returned ,
the pulse beat : the heart animated the frame.
" Tell me," she said, turning partially aside, " tell me,
have you seen C do you know a stranger in this city ?
one of whom wild stories are afloat ? "
66' You speak of Zanoni ? I have seen him - I know

him and you ? Ah ! he, too, would be my rival ! -he,

too , would bear thee from me ! ”
" You err," said Viola, hastily, and with a deep sigh ;
" he pleads for you ; he informed me of your love ; he
besought me not - not to reject it. "
4. - . 15
170 ZANONI .

" Strange being incomprehensible enigma ! Why did

you name him ? "
"Why, ah ! I would have asked whether, when you
first saw him, the foreboding, the instinct, of which you
spoke, came on you more fearfully, more intelligibly than
before - whether you felt at once repelled from him, yet
attracted towards him ― whether you felt -
— " and the ac-
tress spoke with hurried animation—“ that with HIM was
connected the secret of your life ? "
" All this I felt," answered Glyndon , in a trembling
voice, "the first time I was in his presence Though all
around me was gay - music, amidst lamp-lit trees, light
converse near, and heaven without a cloud above, - my
knees knocked together, my hair bristled, and my blood
Since then, he has divided my thoughts
curdled like ice.
with thee."
" No more, no more ! " said Viola, in a stifled tone ;
"there must be the hand of fate in this. I can speak to
you no more now. Farewell ! " She sprung past him

into the house, and closed the door. Glyndon did not
follow her, nor, strange as it may seem, was he so inclined.
The thought and recollection of that moon-lit hour in the
gardens, of the strange address of Zanoni, froze up all
human passion. Viola herself, if not forgotten , shrunk
back like a shadow into the recesses of his breast. He
shivered as he stepped into the sun-light, and musingly
retraced his steps into the more populons parts of that
liveliest of Italian cities.
 BOOK THIRD .

THEURGIA.

CHAPTER I.

But that which especially distinguishes the brotherhood is their

marvellous knowledge of all the resources of medical art. They
work not by charms, but simples. - MS. Account of the Origin and
Attributes of the true Rosicrucians, by J. Von D

AT this time it chanced that Viola had the opportunity

to return the kindness shown to her by the friendly mu-
sician, whose house had received and sheltered her when
first left an orphan on the world . Old Bernardi had
brought up three sons to the same profession as himself,
and they had lately left Naples to seek their fortunes in
the wealthier cities of northern Europe , where the musical
market was less overstocked . There was only left to glad
the household of his aged wife and himself, a lively, prat-
tling, dark-eyed girl, of some eight years old , the child of
his second son, whose mother had died in giving her birth.
It so happened that, about a month previous to the date
on which our story has now entered, a paralytic affection
had disabled Bernardi from the duties of his calling. He
(171)
 172 ZANONI .

had been always a social, harmless, improvident , generous

fellow-living on his gains from day to day, as if the day
of sickness and old age never was to arrive. Though he
received a small allowance for his past services, it ill-
sufficed for his wants ; neither was he free from debt.
Poverty stood at his hearth— when Viola's grateful smile
and liberal hand came to chase the grim fiend away. But
it is not enough to a heart truly kind to send and give ;
more charitable is it to visit and console. 66 Forget not

thy father's friend . " So almost daily went the bright idol
of Naples to the house of Bernardi. Suddenly a heavier
affliction than either poverty or the palsy befell the old
musician. His grand-child , his little Beatrice, fell ill,
suddenly and dangerously ill, of one of those rapid fevers
common to the south ; and Viola was summoned from her
strange and fearful reveries of love or fancy, to the sick-
bed of the young sufferer.
The child was exceedingly fond of Viola, and the old
people thought that her mere presence would bring heal-
ing ; but when Viola arrived, Beatrice was insensible.
Fortunately, there was no performance that evening at
San Carlo, and she resolved to stay the night, and par-
take its fearful cares and dangerous vigil.
But during the night, the child grew worse, the physi-
cian (the leechcraft has never been very skilful at Naples)
shook his powdered head , kept his aromatics at his nos-
trils, administered his palliatives, and departed. Old
Bernardi seated himself by the bed -side in stern silence :
here was the last tie that bound him to life . Well, let

744
 ZANONI . 173

the anchor break, and the battered ship go down ! It

was an iron resolve , more fearful than sorrow. An old

man, with one foot in the grave, watching by the couch

of a dying child, is one of the most awful spectacles in
human calamities. The wife was more active , more bus-
tling, more hopeful, and more tearful. Viola took heed
of all three. But towards dawn , Beatrice's state became
so obviously alarming, that Viola herself began to despair .
At this time she saw the old woman suddenly rise from
before the image of the saint at which she had been
kneeling, wrap herself in her cloak and hood , and quietly
quit the chamber. Viola stole after her.
' It is cold for thee, good mother, to brave the air ; let
me go for the physician ? "
"" Child, I am not going to him. I have heard of one
in the city who has been tender to the poor, and who,
they say, has cured the sick when physicians failed . I
will go and say to him, ' Signor, we are beggars in all
else, but yesterday we were rich in love. We are at the
close of life, but we lived in our grandchild's childhood.
Give us back our wealth give us back our youth. Let
us die blessing God that the thing we love survives us.
She was gone. Why did thy heart beat, Viola ? The
infant's sharp cry of pain called her back to the couch ;
and there still sat the old man, unconscious of his wife's
movements, not stirring , his eyes glazing fast as they
watched the agonies of that slight frame. By degrees
the wail of pain died into a low moan the convulsions
grew feebler but more frequent -
the glow of fever faded
15 *
174 ZANONI .

into the blue, pale tinge that settles into the last bloodless
marble.
The daylight came broader and clearer through the
casement-steps were heard on the stairs - the old woman
entered hastily : she rushed to the bed, cast a glance on
the patient " She lives yet, Signor - she lives ! "
Viola raised her eyes-- the child's head was pillowed
on her bosom-and she beheld Zanoni. He smiled on her
with a tender and soft approval , and took the infant from
her arms. Yet even then, as she saw him bending silently
over that pale face, a superstitious fear mingled with her
rising hopes. Was it by lawful -by holy art that— ”
her self- questioning ceased abruptly ; for his dark eye
turned to her as if he read her soul : and his aspect accused
her conscience for its suspicion, for it spoke reproach not
unmingled with disdain.
66
Be comforted," he said, gently turning to the old man ;
"the danger is not beyond the reach of human skill ; " and,
taking from his bosom a small crystal vase, he mingled a
few drops with water. No sooner did this medicine moisten
the infant's lips, than it seemed to produce an astonishing
effect. The color revived rapidly on the lips and cheeks ;
in a few moments the sufferer slept calmly, and with the
regular breathing of painless sleep. And then the old
man rose, rigidly, as a corpse might rise - looked down
-listened, and creeping gently away, stole to the corner
of the room, and wept, and thanked Heaven !
Now, old Bernardi had been , hitherto, but a cold
believer ; sorrow had never before led him aloft from
 ΖΑΝΟΝΙ . 175

earth. Old as was, he had never before thought as the

old should think of death - that endangered life of the
young had wakened up the careless soul of age. Zanoni
whispered to the wife, and she drew the old man quietly
from the room.
" Dost thou fear to leave me an hour with thy charge,
Viola ? Thinkest thou still that this knowledge is of the
Fiend ?"
"Ah," said Viola, humbled and yet rejoiced, " forgive
me, forgive me, Signor. Thou biddest the young live and
the old pray. My thoughts never shall wrong thee more ! "
Before the sun rose, Beatrice was out of danger ; at
noon, Zanoni escaped from the blessings of the aged pair,
and as he closed the door of the house, he found Viola
awaiting him without.
She stood before him timidly, her hands crossed meekly
on her bosom , her downcast eyes swimming with tears.
"Do not let me be the only one you leave unhappy ! "
"And what cure can the herbs and anodynes effect for
thee ? Ifthou canst so readily believe ill of those who have
aided and yet would serve thee, thy disease is of the heart ;
and --- nay, weep not ! nurse of the sick, and comforter of
the sad , I should rather approve than chide thee. Forgive
thee ! Life, that ever needs forgiveness, has, for its first
duty, to forgive. "
" No, do not forgive me yet. I do not deserve a par-
don ; for even now, while I feel how ungrateful I was to
believe, suspect, aught injurious and false to my preserver,
my tears flow from happiness, not remorse. Oh ! " she
176 ZANONI .

continued, with a simple fervor, unconscious, in her inno-

cence and her generous emotions, of all the secrets she
betrayed " thou knowest not how bitter it was to believe
thee not more good, more pure, more sacred than all the
world. And when I saw thee - the wealthy, the noble,
coming from thy palace to minister to the sufferings of
the hovel- when I heard those blessings of the poor
breathed upon thy parting footsteps, I felt my very self
exalted good in thy goodness - noble at least in those
thoughts that did not wrong thee. "
"And thinkest thou , Viola, that in a mere act of science
there is so much virtue ? The commonest leech will tend
the sick for his fee. Are prayers and blessings a less
reward than gold ? "
"And mine , then, are not worthless ? thou wilt accept
of mine ? "
"Ah, Viola ! " exclaimed Zanoni, with a sudden passion ,
that covered her face with blushes, " thou only, methinks ,
on all the earth, hast the power to wound or delight me !
He checked himself, and his face became grave and sad.
"And this," he added , in an altered tone, " because, if
thou wouldst heed my counsels, methinks I could guide
a guileless heart to a happy fate. "
""
Thy counsels ! I will obey them all. Mould me to
what thou wilt. In thine absence, I am as a child that
fears every shadow 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 father-
less, and ignorant, and alone ! "
 ZANONI . 177

Zanoni averted his face, and, after a moment's silence ,

replied, calmly -
" Be it so. Sister, I will visit thee again ! "

CHAPTER II .

Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy. SHAKSPEARE .

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 gaily 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 for ever soul from soul. He
Idid 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 fan-
tastic branches , in the sun. 66 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 Daugh-
ters of the North, accustomed herself to that delicious
M
178 ZANONI .

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. Unsprung from the embrace of
Love and Soul - the Eros and the Psyche-their 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 III .

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes. - SHAKSPEARE .

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 that 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
 ZANONI . 179

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 pas-
sions, 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 sub-
ject 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 ——_ '9
180 ZANONI .

"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 per-
haps 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 nearer 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 , fare-
well ! "

CHAPTER IV .

Between two worlds life hovers like a star

'Twixt night and morn.
BYRON.

WHEN Glyndon left Viola, as recorded in the conclud-

ing 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

A
 ZANONI . 181

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 Vigor 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
commonplace of imitation , apart, with them, from the
conventional littleness of the Real,-he grasps the imagi-
nation, 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 idealize
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 Raffaele,
like Venus from the deep. And now, as awaking from
his reverie, he stood opposite to that wild and magnifi-
cent gloom of Nature which frowned on him from the
canvas, the very leaves on those gnome-like, distorted
trees, seemed to rustle sibylline secrets in his ear. Those
rugged and sombre Appenines, the cataract that dashed
I. - 16
182 ZANONI .

between, suited , more than the actual scenes would have

done, the mood and temper of his mind. The stern , un-
couth forms at rest on the crags below, and dwarfed by
the giant size of the Matter that reigned around them ,
impressed him with the might of Nature and the little-
ness of Man. As in genius of the more spiritual cast,
the living man, and the soul that lives in him , are studi-
ously made the prominent image ; and the mere acces-
sories of scene kept down, and cast back, as if to show
that the exile from paradise is yet the monarch of the
outward world , so, in the landscapes of Salvator, the
tree, the mountain, the waterfall, become the principal,
and man himself dwindles to the accessory. The Matter
seems to reign supreme, and its true lord to creep beneath
its stupendous shadow. Inert matter giving interest to
the immortal man , not the immortal man to the inert
matter. A terrible philosophy in art !
While something of these thoughts passed through the
mind of the painter, he felt his arm touched , and saw
Nicot by his side.
"A great master," said Nicot, " but I do not love the
school. "
" I do not love, but I am awed by it. We love the
beautiful and serene, but we have a feeling as deep as
love for the terrible and dark. "
" True," said Nicot, thoughtfully. "And yet that feel-
ing is only a superstition. The nursery, with its tales of
ghosts and goblins, is the cradle of many of our impres-
sions in the world. But art should not seek to pander
 ZANONI . 183

to our ignorance ; art should represent only truths. I

confess that Raffaele pleases me less, because I have no
sympathy with his subjects. His saints and virgins are
to me only men and women. "
"And from what source should painting then take its
themes ?"
66
From history, without doubt, " returned Nicot, prag-
matically, " those great Roman actions which inspire
men with sentiments of liberty and valor, with the virtues
of a republic. I wish the cartoons of Raffaele had illus-
trated the story of the Horatii ; but it remains for France
and her Republic to give to posterity the new and the
true school, which could never have arisen in a country
of priestcraft and delusion. "
"And the saints and virgins of Raffaêle are to you
only men and women ? " repeated Glyndon, going back
to Nicot's candid confession in amaze, and scarcely hear-
ing the deductions the Frenchman drew from his pro-
position.
"Assuredly. Ha, ha ! " and Nicot laughed hideously,
66 do you ask me to believe in the calendar, or what ? "

" But the ideal ? "

" The ideal ! " interrupted Nicot. " Stuff ! The Italian
critics, and your English Reynolds, have turned your head.
6
They are so fond of their gusto grande, ' and their ' ideal
beauty that speaks to the soul ! '-soul !-is there a soul ?
I understand a man when he talks of composing for a re-
fined taste for an educated and intelligent reason - for
a sense that comprehends truths . But as for the soul-
184 ZANONI .

bah ! —we are but modifications of matter, and painting

is modification of matter also . "
Glyndon turned his eyes from the picture before him
to Nicot, and from Nicot to the picture . The dogmatist
gave a voice to the thoughts which the sight of the pic-
ture had awakened. He shook his head without reply.
""
Tell me, " said Nicot, abruptly, " that impostor -
Zanoni ?-oh ! I have now learned his name and quack-
eries, forsooth - what did he say to thee of me ? "
""
Of thee ? Nothing ; but to warn me against thy doc-
trines. "
"Aha ! was that all ? " said Nicot. " He is a notable
inventor, and since, when we met last, I unmasked his
delusions, I thought he might retaliate by some tale of
slander. "
" Unmasked his delusions ! - how ? "
"A dull and long story : he wished to teach an old
doting friend of mine his secrets of prolonged life and
philosophical alchemy. I advise thee to renounce so dis-
creditable an acquaintance. "
With that, Nicot nodded significantly, and, not wishing
to be further questioned , went his way.
Glyndon's mind at that moment had escaped to his art,
and the comments and presence of Nicot had been no
welcome interruption. He turned from the landscape of
Salvator, and his eye falling on a Nativity by Corregio,
the contrast between the two ranks of genius struck him
as a discovery. That exquisite repose- that perfect sense
of beauty - that strength without effort that breathing
 ZANONI . 185

moral of high art, which speaks to the mind through the

eye, and raises the thoughts, by the aid of tenderness and
love, to the regions of awe and wonder, -ay ! that was
the true school. He quitted the gallery with reluctant
steps and inspired ideas ; he sought his own home. Here,
pleased not to find the sober Mervale, he leant his face
on his hands, and endeavored to recall the words of Zanoui
in their last meeting. Yes, he felt Nicot's talk even on
art was crime ; it debased the imagination itself to mechan-
ism. Could he, who saw nothing in the soul but a com-
bination of matter, prate of schools that should excel a
Raffaele ? Yes, art was magic ; and as he owned the
truth of the aphorism, he could comprehend that in magic
there may be religion , for religion is an essential art. His
old ambition, freeing itself from the frigid prudence with
which Mervale sought to desecrate all images less substan-
tial than the golden calf of the world, revived , and stirred ,
and kindled . The subtle detection of what he conceived
to be an error in the school he had hitherto adopted , made
more manifest to him by the grinning commentary of
Nicot, seemed to open to him a new world of invention .
He seized the happy moment .- he placed before him the
colors and the canvas . Lost in his conceptions of a fresh
ideal, his mind was lifted aloft into the airy realms of
beauty ; dark thoughts, unhallowed desires, vanished .
Zanoni was right : the material world shrunk from his
gaze he viewed nature as from a mountain-top afar ; and
as the waves of his unquiet heart became calm and still,
16 *
186 ZANONI .

again the angel eyes of Viola beamed on them as a holy

star.
Locking himself in his chamber, he refused even the
visits of Mervale. Intoxicated with the pure air of his
fresh existence, he remained for three days, and almost
nights, absorbed in his employment ; but on the fourth
morning came the reaction to which all labor is exposed.
He woke listless and fatigued ; and as he cast his eyes
on the canvas, the glory seemed to have gone from it.
Humiliating recollections of the great masters he aspired
to rival forced themselves upon him ; defects before unseen
magnified themselves to deformities in his languid and
discontented eyes. He touched and retouched , but his
hand failed him ; he threw down his instruments in despair ;
he opened his casement ; the day without was bright and
lovely ; the street was crowded with that life which is
ever so joyous and affluent in the animated population of
Naples. He saw the lover, as he passed , conversing with
his mistress by those mute gestures which have survived
all changes of languages, the same now as when the
Etruscan painted yon vases in the Museo Borbonico.
Light from without beckoned his youth to its mirth and
pleasures ; and the dull walls within, lately large enough
to comprise heaven and earth, seemed now cabined and
confined as a felon's prison. He welcomed the step of
Mervale at his threshold , and unbarred the door.
"And is that all you have done ? " said Mervale, glancing
disdainfully at the canvas " Is it for this that you have
 ZANONI . 187

shut yourself out from the sunny days and moon-lit nights
of Naples ? "
"While the fit was on me, I basked in a brighter sun ,
99
and imbibed the voluptuous luxury of a softer moon .
" You own that the fit is over. Well, that is some sign
of returning sense. After all, it is better to daub canvas
for three days than make a fool of yourself for life. This
little siren ? "
" Be dumb ! I hate to hear you name her. "
Mervale drew his chair nearer to Glyndon's, thrust his
hands deep in his breeches-pockets, and was about to
begin a serious strain of expostulation , when a knock was
heard at the door, and Nicot, without waiting for leave,
obtruded his ugly head.
66
Good-day, mon cher confrère. I wished to speak
to you . Hein ! you have been at work, I see. This is
well ―― very well ! A bold outline - great freedom in
that right hand. But, hold ! is the composition good ?
You have not got the great pyramidal form . Don't you
think, too, that you have lost the advantage of contrast
in this figure ; since the right leg is put forward, surely
the right arm should be put back ? Peste ! but that little
finger is very fine ! "
Mervale detested Nicot. For all speculators, Utopians,
alterers of the world , and wanderers from the high road,
were equally hateful to him ; but he could have hugged
the Frenchman at that moment. He saw in Glyndon's

expressive countenance all the weariness and disgust he

endured. After so wrapt a study, to be prated to about
188 ZANONI.

pyramidal forms, and right arms, and right legs - the

accidence of the art the whole conception to be over-

looked, and the criticism to end in approval of the little

finger !
" Oh," said Glyndon peevishly, throwing the cloth over
his design, " enough of my poor performance. What is
it you have to say to me ? "
"In the first place," said Nicot, huddling himself
together upon a stool-" in the first place, this Signor
Zanoni - this second Cagliostro - who disputes my doc-
trines (no doubt - a spy of the man Capet) I am not
vindictive ; as Helvetius says, ' our errors arise from our
passions. ' I keep mine in order ; but it is virtuous to
hate in the cause of mankind ; I would I had the denounc-
ing and the judging of Signor Zanoni at Paris. " And
Nicot's small eyes shot fire , and he gnashed his teeth .
" Have you any new cause to hate him ? "
" Yes," said Nicot, fiercely. " Yes, I hear he is court-
ing the girl I mean to marry. "
"You ! Whom do you speak of? "
" The celebrated Pisani ! She is divinely handsome.
She would make my fortune in a republic. And a republic
we shall have before the year is out. "
Mervale rubbed his hands, and chuckled. Glyndon
colored with rage and shame.
" Do you know the Signora Pisani ? Have you ever
spoken to her ? "
" Not yet. But when I make up my mind to anything,
it is soon done. I am about to return to Paris . They
 ZANONI . 189

write me word that a handsome wife advances the career

of a patriot. The age of prejudice is over. The sublimer
virtues begin to be understood. I shall take back the
handsomest wife in Europe. "
" Be quiet ! What are you about ? " said Mervale, seiz-
ing Glyndon as he saw him advance towards the French-
man, his eyes sparkling , and his hands clenched .
" Sir ! " said Glyndon, between his teeth, " you know
not of whom you thus speak . Do you affect to suppose
that Viola Pisani would accept you ? "
"Not if she could get a better offer, " said Mervale,
looking up to the ceiling.
"A better offer ? You don't understand me," said
Nicot. " I , Jean Nicot, propose to marry the girl ;
marry her ! Others may make her more liberal offers,
but no one, I apprehend , would make one so honorable.
I alone have pity on her friendless situation. Besides ,
according to the dawning state of things, one will always,
in France, be able to get rid of a wife whenever one
wishes. We shall have new laws of divorce. Do you
imagine that an Italian girl ― and in no country in the
world are maidens, it seems, more chaste (though wives
may console themselves with virtues more philosophical) ,
- would refuse the hand of an artist for the settlements

of a prince ? No ; I think better of the Pisani than you

do. I shall hasten to introduce myself to her. "
" I wish you all success , Monsieur Nicot, " said Mervale,
rising, and shaking him heartily by the hand.
Glyndon cast at them both a disdainful glance
190 ZANONI .

" Perhaps, Monsieur Nicot," said he at length, con-

straining his lips into a bitter smile, " perhaps you may
have rivals. "
" So much the better," replied Monsieur Nicot, care-
lessly, kicking his heels together, and appearing absorbed
in admiration at the size of his large feet.
"I myself admire Viola Pisani . "
Every painter must ! "
"I may offer her marriage as well as yourself."
" That would be folly in you, though wisdom in me.
You would not know how to draw profit from the specu-
lation ! Cher confrère, you have prejudices. "
" You do not dare to say you would make profit from
your own wife ? "
" The virtuous Cato lent his wife to a friend. I love
virtue, and I cannot do better than imitate Cato. But to
be serious- I do not fear you as a rival. You are good-
looking, and I am ugly. But you are irresolute, and I
decisive. While you are uttering fine phrases, I shall say,
simply, ' I have a bon état. Will you marry me ?' So
do your worst, cher confrère. Au revoir, behind the
scenes ! "
So saying, Nicot rose, stretched his long arms and
short legs, yawned till he showed all his ragged teeth
from ear to ear, pressed down his cap on his shaggy head
with an air of defiance, and casting over his left shoulder
a glance of triumph and malice at the indignant Glyndon,
sauntered out of the room .
Mervale burst into a violent fit of laughter. " See
 ZANONI . 191

how your Viola is estimated by your friend. A fine vic-

tory, to carry her off from the ugliest dog between Lap-
land and the Calmucks. "
Glyndon was yet too indignant to answer, when a new
visitor arrived. It was Zanoni himself. Mervale, on
whom the appearance and aspect of this personage im-
posed a kind of reluctant deference, which he was un-
willing to acknowledge, and still more to betray, nodded
to Glyndon, and saying, simply, " More when I see you
again," left the painter and his unexpected visitor.
" I see," said Zanoni, lifting the cloth from the canvas,
" that you have not slighted the advice I gave you .
Courage, young artist ; this is an escape from the schools ;
this is full of the bold self- confidence of real genius. You
had no Nicot - no Mervale at your elbow, when this
image of true beauty was conceived ! "
Charmed back to his art by this unlooked-for praise,
Glyndon replied , modestly, " I thought well of my design
till this morning ; and then I was disenchanted of my
happy persuasion . "
"' Say,
rather, that, unaccustomed to continuous labor,
you were fatigued with your employment. "
66 That is true.
Shall I confess it ? I began to miss
the world without. It seemed to me as if, while I lavished
my heart and my youth upon visions of beauty, I was
losing the beautiful realities of actual life. And I envied
the merry fisherman , singing as he passed below my case-
ment, and the lover conversing with his mistress. "
"And," said Zanoni, with an encouraging smile, " do
192 ZANONI .

you blame yourself for the natural and necessary return

to earth, in which even the most habitual visitor of the
Heavens of Invention seeks his relaxation and repose ?
Man's genius is a bird that cannot be always on the wing ;
when the craving for the actual world is felt, it is a hunger
that must be appeased. They who command best the
ideal, enjoy ever most the real. See the true artist, when
abroad in men's thoroughfares, ever observant, ever diving
into the heart, ever alive to the least as to the greatest
of the complicated truths of existence ; descending to
what pedants would call the trivial and the frivolous.
From every mesh in the social web, he can disentangle a
grace. And for him each airy gossamer floats in the gold
of the sunlight. Know you not that around the animal-
cule that sports in the water there shines a halo , as around
the star that revolves in bright pastime through the
space ? True art finds beauty everywhere. In the street,
in the market- place, in the hovel, it gathers food for the
hive of its thoughts. In the mire of politics, Dante and
Milton selected pearls for the wreath of song. Who ever
told you that Raffaêle did not enjoy the life without,
carrying everywhere with him the one inward idea of
beauty which attracted and embedded in its own amber
every straw that the feet of the dull man trampled into
mud ? As some lord of the forest wanders abroad for

its prey, and scents and follows it over plain and hill,

The monas mica, found in the purest pools, is encompassed

with a halo. And this is frequent amongst many other species of
animalculæ.
 ZANONI . 193

through brake and jungle, but, seizing it at last, bears

the quarry to its unwitnessed cave- so Genius searches
through wood and waste, untiringly and eagerly, every
sense awake, every nerve strained to speed and strength,
for the scattered and flying images of matter, that it seizes
at last with its mighty talons, and bears away with it into
solitudes no footstep can invade. Go , seek the world
without ; it is for art, the inexhaustible pasture-ground
and harvest to the world within ! "
" You comfort me," said Glyndon, brightening. "I
had imagined my weariness a proof of my deficiency !
But not now would I speak to you of these labors.
Pardon me if I pass from the toil to the reward. You
have uttered dim prophecies of my future, if I wed one
who, in the judgment of the sober world , would only
darken its prospects and obstruct its ambition. Do you
speak from the wisdom which is experience, or that which
aspires to prediction ? "
"Are they not allied ? Is it not he best accustomed
to calculation who can solve at a glance any new problem
in the arithmetic of chances ? "
" You evade my question."
" No ; but I will adapt my answer the better to your
comprehension, for it is upon this very point that I have
sought you . Listen to me ! " Zanoni fixed his eyes
earnestly on his listener, and continued . " For the ac-
complishment of whatever is great and lofty, the clear
perception of truths is the first requisite-truths adapted
to the object desired . The warrior thus reduces the
I. — 17 N
194 ZANONI .

chances of battle to combinations almost of matnematics.

He can predict a result, if he can but depend upon the
materials he is forced to employ. At such a loss he can
cross that bridge ; in such a time he can reduce that fort.
Still more accurately, for he depends less on material
causes than ideas at his command, can the commander of
the purer science or diviner art, if he once perceive the
truths that are in him and around , foretell what he can
achieve, and in what he is condemned to fail. But this
perception of truths is disturbed by many causes- vanity ,
passion, fear, indolence in himself, ignorance of the fitting
means without to accomplish what he designs. He may
miscalculate his own forces ; he may have no chart of the
country he would invade. It is only in a peculiar state
of the mind that it is capable of perceiving truth ; and
that state is profound serenity. Your mind is fevered
by a desire for truth : you would compel it to your em-
braces ; you would ask me to impart to you, without
ordeal or preparation, the grandest secrets that exist in
nature . But truth can no more be seen by the mind un-
prepared for it, than the sun can dawn upon the midst of
night. Such a mind receives truth only to pollute it : to
use the simile of one who has wandered near to the secret
ofthe sublime Goetia (or the magic that lies within nature,
as electricity within the cloudHe who pours water into
the muddy well, does but disturb the mud. '"
" *)
"What do you tend to ? "
"This : that you have faculties that may attain to sur-

Iamb. de Vit. Pythag.

 ZANONI . 195

passing power : that may rank you among those enchant-

ers, who, greater than the magian, leave behind them an
enduring influence, worshipped wherever beauty is com-
prehended, wherever the soul is sensible of a higher world
than that in which matter struggles for crude and incom-
plete existence.
" But to make available those faculties, need I be a
prophet to tell you that you must learn to concentre upon
great objects all your desires ? The heart must rest, that
the mind may be active. At present you wander from
же
aim to aim. As the ballast to the ship, so to the spirit
are Faith and Love. With your whole heart, affections,
humanity, centered in one object, your mind and aspira-
tions will become equally steadfast and in earnest. Viola
is a child as yet : you do not perceive the high nature the
trials of life will develop . Pardon me, if I say that her
soul, purer and loftier than your own , will bear it upward,
as a sacred hymn carries aloft the spirits of the world.
Your nature wants the harmony, the music which, as the
Pythagoreans wisely taught, at once elevates and soothes.
I offer you that music in her love. "
"But am I sure that she does love me ?"
"Artist, no ; she loves you not at present ; her affec-
tions are full of another. But if I could transfer to you,
as the loadstone transfers its attraction to the magnet,
the love that she has now for me - - if I could cause her
to see in you the ideal of her dreams 99
66
Is such a gift in the power of man ? "
" I offer it to you , if your love be lawful, if your faith
196 ZANONI .

in virtue and yourself be deep and loyal ; if not, think

you that I would disenchant her with truth to make her
adore a falsehood ? "
" But if," persisted Glyndon, "if she be all that you
tell me, and if she love you, how can you rob yourself of
so priceless a treasure ? "
" Oh , shallow and mean heart of man ! " exclaimed
Zanoni, with unaccustomed passion and vehemence, “ dost
thou conceive so little of love as not to know that it sacri-
fices all - love itself — for the happiness of the thing it
loves ? Hear me ! " And Zanoni's face grew pale. " Hear
me ! I press this upon you, because I love her, and be-
cause I fear that with me her fate will be less fair than
with yourself. Why - ask not, for I will not tell you.
Enough ! Time presses now for your answer : it cannot
long be delayed . Before the night of the third day from
this, all choice will be forbid you ! "
"But," said Glyndon, still doubting and suspicious,
"but why this haste ? "
66
Man, you are not worthy of her when you ask me.
All I can tell you here, you should have known yourself.
This ravisher, this man of will, this son of the old Viconti,
unlike you , steadfast, resolute, earnest even in his crimes,
-never relinquishes an object. But one passion controls
his lust-it is his avarice. The day after his attempt on
Viola, his uncle, the Cardinal " from whom he has
large expectations of land and gold , sent for him, and
forbade him, on pain of forfeiting all the possessions which
his schemes already had parcelled out, to pursue with dis-
 ZANONI . 197

honorable designs one whom the Cardinal had heeded and

loved from childhood . This is the cause of his present
pause from his pursuit. While we speak, the cause ex-
pires. Before the hand of the clock reaches the hour of
noon, the Cardinal will be no more. At this very
moment thy friend, Jean Nicot, is with the Prince di
" He wherefore ? "
"To ask what dower shall go with Viola Pisani , the
morning that she leaves the palace of the Prince. "
"And how do you know all this ? "
" Fool ! I tell thee again, because a lover is a watcher
by night and day ; because love never sleeps when danger
menaces the beloved one ! "
" And you it was that informed the Cardinal ?"
" Yes ; and what has been my task might as easily have
been thine. Speak - thine answer ! "
" You shall have it on the third day from this. "
" Be it so. Put off, poor waverer, thy happiness to the
last hour. On the third day from this, I will ask thee thy
resolve." .
" And where shall we meet ? "
" Before midnight, where you may least expect me.
You cannot shun me, though you may seek to do so ! "
""
Stay one moment ! You condemn me as doubtful,
irresolute, suspicious. Have I no cause ? Can I yield
without a struggle to the strange fascination you exert
upon my mind ? What interest can you have in me, a
stranger, that you should thus dictate to me the gravest
action in the life of man ? Do you suppose that any one
17 *
198 ZANONI .

in his senses would not pause, and deliberate, and ask

6
himself, Why should this stranger care thus for me ? ""
" And yet," said Zanoni, " if I told thee that I could
initiate thee into the secrets of that magic which the
philosophy of the whole existing world treats as a chimera,
or imposture, - if I promised to show thee how to com-
mand the beings of air and ocean, how to accumulate
wealth more easily than a child can gather pebbles on the
shore, to place in thy hands the essence of the herbs which
prolong life from age to age, the mystery of that attraction
by which to awe all danger, and disarm all violence, and
subdue man as the serpent charms the bird ; if I told thee
that all these it was mine to possess and to communicate,
thou wouldst listen to me then, and obey me without a
doubt !"
" It is true ; and I can account for this only by the im-
perfect associations of my childhood-by traditions in our
house of_____ "}
" Your forefather, who, in the revival of science, sought
the secrets of Apollonius and Paracelsus."
""
"What ! " said Glyndon, amazed , are you so well
acquainted with the annals of an obscure lineage ? "
" To the man who aspires to know, no man who has
been the meanest student of knowledge should be unknown.
You ask me why I have shown this interest in your fate ?
There is one reason which I have not yet told you. There
is a Fraternity as to whose laws and whose mysteries the
most inquisitive schoolmen are in the dark. By those
laws, all are pledged to warn, to aid, and to guide even
 ZANONI . 199

the remotest descendants of men who have toiled, though

vainly, like your ancestor, in the mysteries of the Order.
We are bound to advise them to their welfare ; nay, more,
if they command us to it, we must accept them as our
pupils. I am a survivor of that most ancient and imme-
morial union . This it was that bound me to thee at the
first ; this, perhaps, attracted thyself unconsciously, Son
of our Brotherhood, to me."
" If this be so, I command thee, in the name of the laws
thou obeyest, to receive me as thy pupil ! "
"What do you ask ? " said Zanoni, passionately.
" Learn first the conditions. No Neophyte must have,
at his initiation , one affection or desire that chains him to
the world. He must be pure from the love of woman,
free from avarice and ambition, free from the dreams even
of art, or the hope of earthly fame. The first sacrifice
thou must make is- Viola herself. And for what ? For
an ordeal that the most daring courage only can encounter,
the most ethereal natures alone survive ! Thou art unfit
for the science that has made me and others what we are
or have been ; for thy whole nature is one fear ! ”
" Fear ! ” cried Glyndon , coloring with resentment, and
rising to the full height of his stature.
" Fear ! and the worst fear-fear ofthe world's opinion ;
fear of the Nicots and the Mervales ; fear of thine own
impulses when most generous ; fear of thine own powers
when thy genius is most bold ; fear that God does not live
in heaven to keep watch on earth ; fear, the fear of little
men ; and that fear is never known to the great. "
200 ZANONI.

With these words Zanoni abruptly left the artist.

humbled, bewildered, and not convinced. He remained
alone with his thoughts, till he was aroused by the striking
of the clock ; he then suddenly remembered Zanoni's pre-
diction of the Cardinal's death ; and , seized with an intense
desire to learn its truth, he hurried into the streets, - -he
gained the Cardinal's palace. Five minutes before noon
his Eminence had expired , after an illness of less than an
hour. Zanoni's visit had occupied more time than the
illness of the Cardinal. Awed and perplexed , he turned
from the palace, and as he walked through the Chiaja, he
saw Jean Nicot emerge from the portals of the Prince

CHAPTER V.

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,

Which like two spirits do suggest me still.
SHAKSPEARE.

VENERABLE Brotherhood , so sacred and so little known,

from whose secret and precious archives the materials for
this history have been drawn ; ye who have retained , from
century to century, all that time has spared of the august
and venerable science,-thanks to you , if now, for the first
time, some record of the thoughts and actions of no false
and self-styled luminary of your Order be given, however
imperfectly, to the world. Many have called themselves
of your band ; many spurious pretenders have been so
 ZANONI . 201

called by the learned ignorance which still, baffled and

perplexed , is driven to confess that it knows nothing of
your origin, your ceremonies or doctrines, nor even if you
still have local habitation on the earth. Thanks to you
if I , the only one of my country, in this age, admitted,
with a profane footstep, into your mysterious Academe, *
have been by you empowered and instructed to adapt to
the comprehension of the uninitiated , some few of the
starry truths which shone on the great Shemaia of the
Chaldean Lore, and gleamed dimly through the darkened.
knowledge of later disciples, laboring, like Psellus and
Iamblichus, to revive the embers of the fire which burned
in the Hamarin of the East. Though not to us of an
aged and hoary world is vouchsafed the NAME which , so
say the earliest oracles of the earth, " rushes into the in-
finite worlds," yet is it ours to trace the reviving truths,
through each new discovery of the philosopher and chem-
ist. The laws of Attraction , of Electricity, and of the
yet more mysterious agency of that Great Principle of
Life, which, if drawn from the Universe, would leave the
Universe a grave, were but the code in which the Theurgy
of old sought the guides that led it to a legislation and
science of its own. To rebuild on words the fragments of
this history, it seems to me as if, in a solemn trance, I was
led through the ruins of a city whose only remains were
tombs. From the sarcophagus and the urn I awake the
Genius of the extinguished Torch, and so closely does its

* The reader will have the goodness to remember that this is said
by the author of the original MS. , not by the editor.
The Greek Genius of Death.
202 ZANONI .

shape resemble Eros, that at moments I scarcely know

which of ye dictates to me O Love ! O Death !
And it stirred in the virgin's heart -this new, un-
fathomable, and divine emotion ! Was it only the ordinary
affection of the pulse and the fancy, of the eye to the
Beautiful, of the ear to the Eloquent, or did it not justify
the notion she herself conceived of it - that it was born
not of the senses, that it was less of earthly and human
love than the effect of some wondrous, but not unholy
charm ? I said that, from that day, in which, no longer
with awe and trembling, she surrendered herself to the
influence of Zanoni, she had sought to put her thoughts
into words. Let the thoughts attest their own nature.

THE SELF- CONFESSIONAL

" Is it the daylight that shines on me, or the memory
of thy presence ? Wherever I look, the world seems full
of thee ; in every ray that trembles on the water, that
smiles upon the leaves, I behold but a likeness to thine
eyes. What is this change, that alters not only myself,
but the face of the whole universe ?
* * * * * *
How instantaneously leapt into life the power with which
thou swayest my heart in its ebb and flow. Thousands
were around me, and I saw but thee. That was the
night in which I first entered upon the world which crowds
life into a Drama, and has no language but music. How
strangely and how suddenly with thee became that world
evermore connected ! What the delusion of the stage was
to others, thy presence was to me. My life, too, seemed
 ZANONI . 203

to centre into those short hours, and from thy lips I heard
a music, mute, to all ears but mine. I sit in the room

where my father dwelt. Here, on that happy night, for-

getting why they were so happy, I shrunk into the shadow,
and sought to guess what thou wert to me ; and my mo-
ther's low voice woke me, and I crept to my father's side
-
- close, close, from fear of my own thoughts.
""
Ah ! sweet and sad was the morrow to that night,
when thy lips warned me of the Future. An orphan now
- what is there that lives for me to think of, to dream
upon, to revere, but thou !
""
' How tenderly thou hast rebuked me for the grievous
wrong that my thoughts did thee ! Why should I have
shuddered to feel thee glancing upon my thoughts like
the beam on the solitary tree, to which thou didst once
liken me so well ? It was it was, that, like the tree, I
struggled for the light, and the light came. They tell me
of love, and my very life of the stage breathes the lan-
guage of love into my lips. No ; again and again, I know
that is not the love that I feel for thee ! —it is not a pas-
sion, it is a thought ! I ask not to be loved again . I
murmur not that thy words are stern and thy looks are
cold. I ask not if I have rivals ; I sigh not to be fair in

thine eyes. It is my spirit that would blend itself with

thine. I would give worlds, though we were apart, though
oceans rolled between us, to know the hour in which thy
gaze was lifted to the stars in which thy heart poured
itself in prayer. They tell me thou art more beautiful
than the marble images, that are fairer than all human
204 ZANONI .

forms ; but I have never dared to gaze steadfastly on thy

face, that memory might compare thee with the rest.
Only thine eyes, and thy soft calm smile haunt me ; as
when I look upon the moon , all that passes into my heart
is her silent light.
* * *
Often, when the air is calm, I have thought that I
hear the strains of my father's music ; often, though long
stilled in the grave, have they waked me from the dreams
of the solemn night. Methinks, ere thou comest to me,
that I hear them herald thy approach . Methinks I hear
them wail and moan , when I sink back into myself on
seeing thee depart . Thou art of that music - its spirit,
its genius. My father must have guessed at thee and thy
native regions , when the winds hushed to listen to his
tones, and the world deemed him mad ! I hear, where I
sit, the far murmur of the sea. Murmur on, ye blessed
waters ! The waves are the pulses of the shore . They
beat with the gladness of the morning wind -so beats my
heart in the freshness and light that make up the thoughts
of thee !
* * * * * *
" Often in my childhood I have mused and asked for
what I was born ; and my soul answered my heart and
said— ' Thou wert born to worship ! ' Yes ; I know
why the real world has ever seemed to me so false and
cold. I know why the world of the stage charmed and
dazzled me. I know why it was so sweet to sit apart and
gaze my whole being into the distant heavens. My nature
is not formed for this life, happy though that life seem to
 ZANONI . 205

others. It is its very want to have ever before it some

image loftier than itself ! Stranger, in what realm above,
when the grave is past, shall my soul, hour after hour,
worship at the same source as thine ?
* * * * * *
" In the gardens of my neighbor there is a small foun-
tain. I stood by it this morning after sunrise. How it
sprung up, with its eager spray, to the sunbeams ! And
then I thought that I should see thee again this day,
and so sprung my heart to the new morning which thou
bringest me from the skies.
* * * * *

" I have seen, I have listened to thee again. How

bold I have become ! I ran on with my child-like thoughts
and stories, my recollections of the past, as if I had known
thee from an infant. Suddenly the idea of my presump-
tion struck me. I stopped , and timidly sought thine
eyes.
" Well, and when you found that the nightingale re-
fused to sing ? '-
“ ‘Ah ! ' I said , ' what to thee this history of the heart
of a child ? '
66
" Viola,' didst thou answer, with that voice, so inex-
pressibly calm and earnest ! ' Viola, the darkness of a
child's heart is often but the shadow of a star. Speak 12
on ! And thy nightingale, when they caught and caged
it , refused to sing ? '
" And I placed the cage yonder, amidst the vine-leaves,
and took up my lute, and spoke to it on the strings ; for
I. - 18
206 ZANONI .

I thought that all music was its native language, and it

would understand that I sought to comfort it. '
" Yes, ' saidst thou. ' And at last it answered thee,
but not with song -in a sharp, brief cry ; so mournful,
that thy hands let fall the lute, and the tears gushed from
thine eyes. So softly didst thou unbar the cage, and the
nightingale flew into yonder thicket ; and thou heardst
the foliage rustle, and looking through the moonlight,
thine eyes saw that it had found its mate. It sang to
thee then from the boughs a long, loud, joyous jubilee.
And musing, thou didst feel that it was not the vine -leaves
or the moonlight that made the bird give melody to night ;
and that the secret of its music was the presence of a
thing beloved.'
" How didst thou know my thoughts in that child - like
time better than I knew myself ! How is the humble life
of my past years, with its mean events, so mysteriously
familiar to thee, bright stranger ! I wonder- but I do
not again dare to fear thee !
* * * * *
" Once the thought of him oppressed and weighed me
down. As an infant that longs for the moon , my being
was one vague desire for something never to be attained .
Now I feel rather as if to think of thee sufficed to re-
move every fetter from my spirit. I float in the still seas
of light, and nothing seems too high for my wings, too
glorious for my eyes. It was mine ignorance that made
me fear thee. A knowledge that is not in books seems
to breathe around thee as an atmosphere. How little
 ZANONI . 207

have I read ! - how little have I learned ! Yet when

thou art by my side, it seems as if the veil.were lifted
from all wisdom and all nature . I startle when I look
even at the words I have written ; they seem not to come
from myself, but are the signs of another language which
thou hast taught my heart, and which my hand traces
rapidly, as at thy dictation. Sometimes, while I write
or muse, I could fancy that I heard light wings hovering
around me, and saw dim shapes of beauty floating round,
and vanishing as they smiled upon me. No unquiet and
fearful dream ever comes to me now in sleep , yet sleep
and waking are alike but as one dream . In sleep, I wander
with thee, not through the paths of earth, but through
impalpable air-an air which seems a music- upward and
upward , as the soul mounts on the tones of a lyre ! Till
I knew thee, I was as a slave to the earth. Thou hast
given to me the liberty of the universe ! Before, it was
life ; it seems to me now as if I had commenced eternity !
* * * * * *
" Formerly, when I was to appear upon the stage, my
heart beat more loudly. I trembled to encounter the
audience, whose breath gave shame or renown ; and now
I have no fear of them. I see them, heed them , hear
them not ! I know that there will be music in my voice ,
for it is a hymn that I pour to thee. Thou never comest
to the theatre ; and that no longer grieves me. Thou art
become too sacred to appear a part of the common world,
and I feel glad that thou art not by when crowds have a
right to judge me.
* *
208 ZANONI .

"And he spoke to me of ANOTHER : to another he would

consign me ! No, it is not love that I feel for thee, Zanoni ;
or why did I hear thee without anger ? why did thy com-
mand seem to me not a thing impossible ! As the strings.
of the instrument obey the hand of the master, thy look
modulates the wildest chords of my heart to thy will. If
it please thee-yes-let it be so. Thou art Lord of my
destinies ; they cannot rebel against thee ! I almost think
I could love him , whoever it be, on whom thou wouldst
shed the rays that circumfuse thyself. Whatever thou
hast touched, I love ; whatever thou speakest of, I love.
Thy hand played with these vine-leaves ; I wear them in
my bosom. Thou seemest to me the source of all love ;
too high and too bright to be loved thyself, but darting
light into other objects, on which the eye can gaze less 7
dazzled. No , no ; it is not love that I feel for thee, and
therefore it is that I do not blush to nourish and confess
it. Shame on me if I loved , knowing myself so worth-
less a thing to thee !
"ANOTHER ! my memory echoes back that word.
Another ! Dost thou mean that I shall see thee no more ?
It is not sadness - it is not despair that seizes me. I
cannot weep . It is an utter sense of desolation . I am
plunged back into the common life ; and I shudder coldly
at the solitude. But I will obey thee, if thou wilt. Shall
I not see thee again beyond the grave ? O how sweet it
were to die !
“ Why do I not struggle from the web in which my .
will is thus entangled ? Hast thou a right to dispose of
 ZANONI . 209

- the life I
me thus ? Give me back - give me back
knew before I gave life itself away to thee. Give me
back the careless dreams of my youth - my liberty of
heart that sung aloud as it walked the earth. Thou hast
disenchanted me of everything that is not of thyself.
Where was the sin , at least, to think of thee ? — to see
thee ? Thy kiss still glows upon my hand is that hand
mine to bestow ? Thy kiss claimed and hallowed it to
thyself. Stranger, I will not obey thee.
* * * * *

"Another day one day of the fatal three is gone. It

is strange to me that since the sleep of the last night, a
deep calm has settled upon my breast. I feel so assured
that my very being is become a part of thee, that I cannot
believe that my life can be separated from thine ; and in
this conviction I repose, and smile even at thy words and
my own fears. Thou art fond of one maxim , which thou
repeatest in a thousand forms -- that the beauty of the
soul is faith — that as ideal loveliness to the sculptor, faith
is to the heart - that faith, rightly understood, extends
over all the works of the Creator, whom we can know
but through belief-that it embraces a tranquil confi-
dence in ourselves, and a serene repose as to our future
that it is the moon-light that sways the tides of the
human sea. That faith I comprehend now. I reject all
doubt - all fear. I know that I have inextricably linked
the whole that makes the inner life to thee : and thou
canst not tear me from thee, if thou wouldst ! And this
change from struggle into calm came to me with sleep –
18 *
210 ZANONI .

a sleep without a dream ; but when I woke, it was with

a mysterious sense of happiness- an indistinct memory
of something blessed as if thou hadst cast from afar off
a smile upon my slumber. At night I was so sad ; not a
blossom that had not closed itself up as if never more to
open to the sun ; and the night itself, in the heart as on
the earth, has ripened the blossoms into flowers. The
world is beautiful once more, but beautiful in repose-
not a breeze stirs thy tree- not a doubt my soul ! "

CHAPTER VI .

Tu vegga o per violenzia o per inganno

Patire o disonore o mortal danno. *
ORL. FUR. , Cant. xlii i.

It was a small cabinet ; the walls were covered with

pictures, one of which was worth more than the whole
lineage of the owner of the palace. Oh, yes ! Zanoni
was right. The painter is a magician ; the gold he at
least wrings from his crucible is no delusion. A Venetian
noble might be a fribble, or an assassin - a scoundrel, or
a dolt ; worthless, or worse than worthless, yet he might
have sat to Titian, and his portrait may be inestimable !
-A few inches of painted canvas a thousand times more
valuable than a man with his veins and muscles, brain ,.
will, heart, and intellect !

Thou art about either through violence or artifice to suffer

either dishonor or mortal loss.
 ZANONI . 211

In this cabinet sat a man of about three - and - forty ;

dark-eyed, sallow, with short, prominent features, a mas-
sive conformation of jaw, and thick, sensual, but resolute
lips ; this man was the Prince di • His form, above
the middle height, and rather inclined to corpulence, was
clad in a loose dressing-robe of rich brocade. On a table
D before him lay an old-fashioned sword and hat, a mask,
dice and dice- box, a portfolio , and an inkstand of silver
curiously carved .
"Well, Mascari, " said the Prince, looking up towards
his parasite who stood by the embrasure of the deep- set
barricadoed window- -" well, the Cardinal sleeps with his
fathers. I require comfort for the loss of so excellent a
relation ; and where a more dulcet voice than Viola
Pisani's ? "
" Is your Excellency serious ? So soon after the death
of his Eminence ? "
" It will be the less talked of, and I the less suspected.
Hast thou ascertained the name of the insolent who baffled
us that night, and advised the Cardinal the next day ? "
" Not yet. "
"" Sapient Mascari ! I will inform thee. It was the

strange Unknown."
“ The Signor Zanoni ! Are you sure, my Prince ? "
แ Mascari, yes. There is a tone in that man's voice

that I never can mistake ; so clear, and so commanding ,

when I hear it I almost fancy there is such a thing as
conscience . However , we must rid ourselves of an imper-
tinent . Mascari , Signor Zanoni hath not yet honored
212 ZANONI .

our poor house with his presence. He is a distinguished

stranger.-we must give a banquet in his honor . "
"Ah ! and the Cyprus wine ! The cyprus is a proper
emblem of the grave. "
""
'But this anon . I am superstitious : there are strange
stories of Zanoni's power and foresight ; remember the
death of Ughelli . No matter ! though the Fiend were
his ally, he should not rob me of my prize ; no, nor my
revenge."
" Your Excellency is infatuated ; the actress has be-
witched you . "
66
Mascari," said the Prince with a haughty smile,
66
' through these veins rolls the blood of the old Visconti
of those who boasted that no woman ever escaped their
lust, and no man their resentment. The crown of my
fathers has shrunk into a gewgaw and a toy, - - their am-
bition and their spirit are undecayed ! My honor is now
enlisted in this pursuit-― Viola must be mine ! "
66 Another ambuscade ? " said Mascari, inquiringly.

Nay, why not enter the house itself ? the situation is

lonely, and the door is not made of iron. "
" But what if, on her return home, she tell the tale of
our violence ? A house forced- a virgin stolen ! Reflect ;
though the feudal privileges are not destroyed, even a
Visconti is not now above the law. "
" Is he not, Mascari ? Fool ! in what age of the world,
even if the Madmen of France succeed in their chimeras,
will the iron of law not bend itself, like an osier twig, to
the strong hand of power and gold ? But look not so pale,
 ZANONI . 213

Mascari, I have foreplanned all things. The day that she

leaves this palace, she will leave it for France, with Mon-
sieur Jean Nicot. "
Before Mascari could reply, the gentleman of the cham-
ber announced the Signor Zanoni.
The Princc involuntarily laid his hand upon the sword
placed on the table, then with a smile at his own impulse,
rose, and met his visitor at the threshold, with all the
profuse and respectful courtesy of Italian simulation.
" This is an honor highly prized, " said the Prince. " I
have long desired to clasp the hand of one so dis-
tinguished "
" And I give it in the spirit with which you seek it,"
replied Zanoni.
The Neapolitan bowed over the hand he pressed ; but
as he touched it, a shiver came over him, and his heart
stood still. Zanoni bent on him his dark, smiling eyes,
and then seated himself with a familiar air.
" Thus it is signed and sealed ; I mean our friendship,
noble Prince. And now I will tell you the object of my
visit. I find , Excellency, that, unconsciously perhaps, we
are rivals. Can we not accommodate our pretensions ? "
" Ah ! " said the Prince, carelessly, " you then were the
cavalier who robbed me of the reward of my chase. All
stratagems fair in love, as in war. Reconcile our preten-
sions ! Well, here is the dice-box ; let us throw for her.
He who casts the lowest shall resign his claim. "
" Is this a decision by which you will promise to be
bound ? "
214 ZANONI .

" Yes, on my faith."

" And for him who breaks his word so plighted, what
shall be the forfeit ? "
" The sword lies next to the dice-box, Signor Zanoni.
Let him who stands not by his honor, fall by the sword. "
" And you invoke that sentence if either of us fail his
word ? Be it so ; let Signor Mascari cast for us. ""
"Well said ! - Mascari, the dice ! "
The Prince threw himself back in his chair ; and , world-
hardened as he was, could not suppress the glow of tri-
umph and satisfaction that spread itself over his features.
Mascari took up the three dice, and rattled them noisily
in the box. Zanoni, leaning his cheek on his hand, and
bending over the table, fixed his eyes steadfastly on the
parasite ; Mascari in vain struggled to extricate himself
from that searching gaze : he grew pale, and trembled―
he put down the box.
" I give the first throw to your excellency . Signor
Mascari, be pleased to terminate our suspense. "
Again Mascari took up the box ; again his hand shook,
so that the dice rattled within . He threw the numbers
were sixteen .

" It is a high throw," said Zanoni, calmly ; " neverthe-

less, Signor Mascari, I do not despond. "
Mascari gathered up the dice, shook the box, and
rolled the contents once more on the table : the number
was the highest that can be thrown - eighteen.
The Prince darted a glance of fire at his minion, who
 ZANONI . 215

stood with gaping mouth, staring at the dice, and trem-

bling from head to foot.
" I have won, you see, " said Zanoni ; " may we be
friends still ? "

" Signor," said the Prince, obviously struggling with

anger and confusion, " the victory is yours. But pardon
me, you have spoken lightly of this young girl- will any-
thing tempt you to yield your claim ? "
"6
Ah, do not think so ill of my gallantry ; and," resumed
Zanoni, with a stern meaning in his voice, " forget not
the forfeit your own lips have named. "
The Prince knit his brow, but constrained the haughty
answer that was his first impulse.
" Enough ! " he said, forcing a smile ; " I yield. Let
me prove that I do not yield ungraciously : will you favor
me with your presence at a little feast I propose to give
in honor," he added , with a sardonic mockery, -" of the
elevation of my kinsman, the late Cardinal , of pious
memory, to the true seat of St. Peter ? "
"It is, indeed , a happiness to hear one command of
yours I can obey. "
Zanoni then turned the conversation , talked lightly and
gaily, and soon afterwards departed.
"Villain ! " then exclaimed the Prince, grasping Mas-
cari by the collar, " you betrayed me ! "
""
' I assure your Excellency that the dice were properly
arranged : he should have thrown twelve ; but he is the
Devil, and that's the end of it. "
216 ZANONI .

" There is no time to be lost, " said the Prince, quitting

his hold of his parasite, who quietly re-settled his cravat.
"My blood is up- I will win this girl, if I die for it !
What noise is that ? "
"It is but the sword of your illustrious ancestor that
has fallen from the table. "

CHAPTER VII .

Il ne faut appeler aucun ordre si ce n'est en tems clair et serein. *

LES CLAVICULES DU RABBI SALOMON.

LETTER FROM ZANONI TO MEJNOUR.

My art is already dim and troubled . I have lost the

tranquillity which is power. I cannot influence the de-
cisions of those whom I would most guide to the shoree ;
I see them wander farther and deeper into the infinite
ocean, where our barks sail evermore to the horizon that
flies before us ! Amazed and awed to find that I can only
warn where I would control, I have looked into my own
soul. It is true that the desires of earth chain me to the
Present, and shut me from the solemn secrets which Intel-
lect, purified from all the dross of the clay, alone can
examine and survey. The stern condition on which we

hold our nobler and diviner gifts darkens our vision

* No order of spirits must be invoked unless the weather be clear

and serene.
 ZANONI. 217

towards the future of those for whom we know the human

infirmities of jealousy, or hate, or love. Mejnour, all
around me is mist and haze ; I have gone back in our
sublime existence ; and from the bosom of the imperish-
able youth that blooms only in the spirit, springs up the
dark poison -flower of human love.
This man is not worthy of her - I know that truth ;
yet in his nature are the seeds of good and greatness, if
the tares and weeds of worldly vanities and fears would
suffer them to grow. If she were his, and I had thus

transplanted to another soil the passion that obscures my

gaze and disarms my power, unseen , unheard, unrecog-
nized , I could watch over his fate, and secretly prompt
his deeds, and minister to her welfare through his own.
But time rushes on ! Through the shadows that encircle
me, I see, gathering round her, the darkest dangers. No
choice but flight- no escape, save with him or me . With
me ! the rapturous thought - the terrible conviction !
With me ! Mejnour, canst thou wonder that I would save
her from myself ? A moment in the life of ages— a bubble
on the shoreless sea. What else to me can be human
love ? And in this exquisite nature of hers-- more pure ,
more spiritual, even in its young affections than ever here-
tofore the countless volumes of the heart, race after race,
have given to my gaze-there is yet a deep-buried feeling
that warns me of inevitable woe. Thou austere and re-

morseless Hierophant- thou who hast sought to convert

to our brotherhood every spirit that seemed to thee most
I. G 19
218 ZANONI .

high and bold -even thou knowest, by horrible experience ,

how vain the hope to banish fear from the heart of
woman. My life would be to her one marvel. Even if,
on the other hand, I sought to guide her path through
the realms of terror to the light, think of the Haunter
of the Threshold, and shudder with me at the awful
hazard ! I have endeavored to fill the Englishman's am-
bition with the true glory of his art ; but the restless
spirit of his ancestor still seems to whisper in him, and
to attract to the spheres in which it lost its own wander-
ing way. There is a mystery in man's inheritance from
his fathers. Peculiarities of the mind, as diseases of the
body, rest dormant for generations, to revive in some dis-
tant descendant, baffle all treatment and elude all skill.
Come to me from thy solitude amidst the wrecks of Rome !
I pant for a living confidant - for one who in the old
time has himself known jealousy and love. I have sought
commune with Adon-Ai : but his presence, that once in-
spired such heavenly content with knowledge, and so
serene a confidence in destiny, now only troubles and per-
plexes me. From the height from which I strive to search
into the shadows ofthings 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
 ZANONI . 219

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 per-
turbed 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 sur-
vivors 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 !
220 ZANONJ.

CHAPTER VIII .

Ill lupo
Ferito, credo, mi conobbe e ' ncontro
Mi venne con la bocca sanguinosa. *
AMINTA, At. iv. Sc. i.

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 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
* The wounded wolf, I think, knew me, and came to meet me
with its bloody mouth.
 ZANONI . 221

darkly amidst spires and domes that glittered in the sun.

Lulled in its azure splendor 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 vapor
of Vesuvius fascinated her eye yet more than the scattered
gardens, orthe 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 singular did it harmonize in its uncouth ugliness with
the wild nature of the scene immediately around her, and
the wizard traditions of the place, that the color 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 difference 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 fol-
low your footsteps. My name is Jean Nicot, a name
already favorably 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 appear-
ance had occasioned. He seated himself, as he spoke,
19 *
222 ZANONT.

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 wooes thee fairly. Nay, look
not so indignant ! Listen to me. Has the Prince di
ever spoken to thee of marriage ? or the beautiful im-
postor Zanoni ? - or the 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 honor ? Perhaps you are different
from what you seem. Perhaps you laugh at the prejudice
that would degrade you, and would wisely turn it to ad- .
vantage. Speak frankly to me ; I have no prejudice
 ZANONI. 223

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 forlorn 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 the yawning
abyss below. She heard his exclamation of rage and pain,
as she bounded down the path, and , without once turning
to look behind, regained her home. By the porch stood
Glyndon, conversing with Gionetta. She passed him
abruptly, entered the house, and, sinking on the floor,
wept loud and passionately.
Glyndon, who had followed her in surprise, vainly sought
to soothe and calm her. She would not reply to his ques-
tions ; she did not seem to listen to his protestations of
love, till suddenly, as Nicot's terrible picture of the world's
judgment of that profession , which to her younger thoughts
had seemed the service of Song and the Beautiful, forced
224 ZANONI .

itself upon her, she raised her face from her hands, and
looking steadily upon the Englishman , said, " False one,
dost thou talk to me of love ? "
"By my honor, words fail to tell thee how I love ! "
"Wilt thou give me thy home ? -thy name ? Dost
thou woo me as thy wife ? " And at that moment, had
Glyndon answered as his better angel would have coun-
selled, perhaps, in that revolution of her whole mind,
which the words of Nicot had effected , which made her
despise her very self, sicken of her lofty dreams, despair
of the future, and distrust her whole ideal, - perhaps, I
say, in restoring her self-esteem, he would have won her
confidence, and ultimately secured her love. But, against
the prompting of his nobler nature, rose up at that sudden
question all those doubts which, as Zanoni had so well
implied, made the true enemies of his soul. Was he thus
suddenly to be entangled into a snare laid for his cre-
dulity by deceivers ? Was she not instructed to seize the
moment to force him into an avowal which prudence must
repent ? Was not the great Actress rehearsing a premed-
itated part ? He turned round , as these thoughts, the
children of the world, passed across him, for he literally
fancied that he heard the sarcastic laugh of Mervale with-
out. Nor was he deceived. Mervale was passing by
the threshold, and Gionetta had told him his friend was
within . Who does not know the effect of the world's
laugh ? Mervale was the personation of the world. The
whole world seemed to shout derision in those ringing
 ZANONI . 225

tones. He drew back - he recoiled . Viola followed him

with her earnest , impatient eyes. At last, he faltered
forth,- " Do all of thy profession , beautiful Viola , exact
marriage as the sole condition of love ? " Oh, bitter
question ! Oh, poisoned taunt ! He repented it the
moment after. He was seized with remorse of reason , of
feeling, and of conscience. He saw her form shrink, as
it were, at his cruel words . He saw the color come and
go, to leave the writhing lips like marble ; and then , with
a sad, gentle look of self-pity, rather than reproach , she
pressed her hands tightly to her bosom, and said,--
" He was right ! Pardon me, Englishman ; I see now
indeed , that I am the Pariah and the outcast. "
" Hear me. I retract. Viola, Viola ! it is for you to
forgive ! "
But Viola waved him from her, and smiling mournfully,
as she passed him by, glided from the chamber ; and he
did not dare to detain her.
226 ZANONI.

CHAPTER IX .

DAFNE. Ma, chi lung' è d'Amor,

TIRSI. Chi teme e fugge.
DAFNE. E che giova fuggir da lui ch' ha l' ali ?
TIRSI. Amor nascente ha corte l' ali ! *
AMINTA, At. ii. Sc. ii.

WHEN Glyndon found himself without Viola's house,

Mervale, still loitering at the door, seized his arm. Glyn-
don shook him off abruptly.
" Thou and thy counsels, " said he, bitterly, " have made
me a coward and a wretch. But I will go home - I will
write to her. I will pour out my whole soul ; she will
forgive me yet. "
Mervale, who was a man of imperturbable temper,
arranged his ruffles, which his friend's angry gesture had
a little discomposed , and not till Glyndon had exhausted
himself awhile by passionate exclamations and reproaches,
did the experienced angler begin to tighten the line. He
then drew from Glyndon the explanation of what had
passed, and artfully sought not to irritate, but soothe him.
Mervale, indeed, was by no means a bad man : he had
stronger moral notions than are common amongst the
young. He sincerely reproved his friend for harboring

* DAFNE. But, who is far from Love ? --TIRSI. He who fears and
flies. - DAFNE. What use to flee from one who has wings ? -TIRSI.
The wings of Love, while he yet grows, are short.
 ZANONI . 227

dishonorable intentions with regard to the actress.

" Because I would not have her thy wife, I never dreamed
that thou shouldst degrade her to thy mistress. Better
of the two an imprudent match than an illicit connection.
But pause yet, do not act on the impulse of the moment. "
" But there is no time to lose. I have promised to
Zanoni to give him my answer by to - morrow night. Later
than that time, all option ceases. "
"Ah ! " said Mervale, " this seems suspicious. Explain
yourself. "
And Glyndon , in the earnestness of his passion , told
his friend what had passed between himself and Zanoni
suppressing only, he scarce knew why, the reference to
his ancestor and the mysterious brotherhood.
This recital gave to Mervale all the advantage he could
desire. Heavens ! with what sound, shrewd common sense
he talked. How evidently some charlatanic coalition
between the actress, and perhaps who knows ? - her
clandestine protector, sated with possession ! How equiv-
ocal the character of one -the position of the other !
What cunning in the question of the actress ! How pro-
foundly had Glyndon , at the first suggestion of his sober
reason, seen through the snare. What was he to be
thus mystically cajoled and hurried into a rash marriage,
because Zanoni , a mere stranger, told him with a grave
face that he must decide before the clock struck a certain
hour ?
" Do this at least, " said Mervale, reasonably enough,
" wait till the time expires ; it is but another day.
228 ZANONI .

Baffle Zanoni. He tells thee that he will meet thee before

midnight to-morrow, and defies thee to avoid him. Pooh !
let us quit Naples for some neighboring place, where,
unless he be indeed the Devil, he cannot possibly find us.
Show him that you will not be led blindfold even into an
act that you meditate yourself. Defer to write to her, or
to see her, till after to -morrow. This is all I ask. Then
visit her, and decide for yourself. "
Glyndon was staggered. He could not combat the
reasonings of his friend ; he was not convinced, but he
hesitated ; and at that moment Nicot passed them. He
turned round, and stopped, as he saw Glyndon.
"Well, and do you think still of the Pisani ?"
" Yes ; and you
" Have seen and conversed with her. She shall be
Madame Nicot before this day week ! I am going to the
café, in the Toledo ; and hark ye, when next you meet
your friend Signor Zanoni, tell him that he has twice
crossed my path. Jean Nicot, though a painter, is a
plain, honest man, and always pays his debts. "
" It is a good doctrine in money matters, " said Mer-
vale ; " as to revenge, it is not so moral, and certainly
not so wise. But is it in your love that Zanoni has
crossed your path ? How that, if your suit prosper so
well ?"
"Ask Viola Pisani that question. Bah ! Glyndon , she
is a prude only to thee. But I have no prejudices. Once
more, farewell."
""
' Rouse thyself, man ! " said Mervale, slapping Glyn-
 ZANONI . 229

don on the shoulder. " What think you of your fair one
now ? "
" This man must lie . "

iP "Will you write to her at once ? "

" No ; ifshe be really playing a game, I could renounce
her without a sigh. I will watch her closely ; and at all
events, Zanoni shall not be the master of my fate. Let
us, as you advise, leave Naples at daybreak to - morrow. "

CHAPTER X.

O chiunque tu sia, che fuor d'ogni uso

Pieghi Natura ad opre altere e strane,
E, spiando i segreti, entri al più chiuso
Spazi' a tua voglia delle menti umane-
Deh, Dimmi ! *
GERUS. LIB., Cant. x. xviii.

EARLYthe next morning the young Englishmen mounted

their horses, and took the road towards Baiæ. Glyndon
left word at his hotel, that if Signor Zanoni sought him,
it was in the neighborhood of that once celebrated water-
ing- place of the ancients that he should be found.
They passed by Viola's house, but Glyndon resisted
the temptation of pausing there ; and after threading the

* O thou, whoever thou art, who through every use bendest

Nature to works foreign and strange — and by spying into her
secrets, enterest, at thy will , into the closest recesses of the human
nind speak, O tell me !
I. - 20
230 ZANONI.

grotto of Posilipo, they wound by a circuitous route

back into the suburbs of the city, and took the opposite
road, which conducts to Portici and Pompeii. It was
late at noon when they arrived at the former of these
.
places. Here they halted to dine ; for Mervale had heard
much of the excellence of the macaroni at Portici, and
Mervale was a bon vivant.
They put up at an inn of very humble pretensions, and
dined under an awning. Mervale was more than usually
gay ; he pressed the Lacrima upon his friend, and con-
versed gaily.
"Well, my dear friend, we have foiled Signor Zanoni
in one of his predictions at least. You will have no faith
in him hereafter. "
" The ides are come, not gone."
" Tush ! If he be the soothsayer, you are not the Cæsar.
It is your vanity that makes you credulous. Thank Heaven,
I do not think myself of such importance that the ope-
rations of nature should be changed in order to frighten
me. "
" But why should the operations of nature be changed ?
There may be a deeper philosophy than we dream of- a
philosophy that discovers the secrets of nature, but does
not alter, by penetrating, its courses. "
"Ah ! you relapse into your heretical credulity ; you
seriously suppose Zanoni to be a prophet - a reader of
the future ; perhaps an associate of genii and spirits !! ‫יי‬
Here the landlord , a little, fat, oily fellow, came up
with a fresh bottle of Lacrima. He hoped their Excel-
 ZANONI . 231

lencies were pleased . He was most touched --touched to

the heart, that they liked the macaroni. Were their Ex-
cellencies going to Vesuvius ? There was a slight erup-
tion ; they could not see it where they were, but it was
pretty, and would be prettier still after sunset.
"A capital idea ! " cried Mervale. " What say you,
Glyndon ? "
' I have not yet seen an eruption ; I should like it
much."
" But is there no danger ? " asked the prudent Mervale.
Oh, not at all ; the mountain is very civil at present.
It only plays a little, just to amuse their Excellencies the
English. "
" Well, order the horses, and bring the bill ; we will
go before it is dark . Clarence, my friend - nunc est
bibendum ; but take care of the pede libero, which will
scarce do for walking on lava ! "
The bottle was finished , the bill paid ; the gentlemen
mounted, the landlord bowed, and they bent their way,
in the cool of the delightful evening, towards Resina.
The wine, perhaps the excitement of his thoughts,
animated Glyndon, whose unequal spirits were , at times,
high and brilliant as those of a school-boy released ; and
the laughter of the northern tourists sounded oft and mer-
rily along the melancholy domains of buried cities.
Hesperus had lighted his lamp amidst the rosy skies
as they arrived at Resina. Here they quitted their horses,
and took mules and a guide. As the sky grew darker
and more dark, the Mountain Fire burned with an intense
232 ZANONI .

lustre . In various streaks and streamlets, the fountain

of flame rolled down the dark summit, and the English-
men began to feel increase upon them, as they ascended ,
that sensation of solemnity and awe which makes the very
atmosphere that surrounds the Giant of the Plains of the
Antique Hades.
It was night, when, leaving the mules, they ascended
on foot, accompanied by their guide, and a peasant who
bore a rude torch. The guide was a conversable, garru-
lous fellow, like most of his country and his calling ; and
Mervale, who possessed a sociable temper, loved to amuse
or to instruct himself on every incidental occasion.
"Ah ! Excellency, " said the guide, " your countrymen
have a strong passion for the volcano. Long life to them !
they bring us plenty of money. If our fortunes depended
on the Neapolitans, we should starve. "
" True, they have no curiosity," said Mervale. " Do
you remember, Glyndon, the contempt with which that
old Count said to us, ' You will go to Vesuvius, I suppose ?
I have never been ; why should I go ? you have cold, you
have hunger, you have fatigue, you have danger, and all
for nothing but to see fire , which looks just as well in a
brazier as on a mountain. ' Ha ! ha ! the old fellow was
right."
" But, Excellency, " said the guide, " that is not all :
some cavaliers think to ascend the mountain without our
help. I am sure they deserve to tumble into the crater. "
" They must be bold fellows to go alone ; - you don't
often find such. "
 ZANONI. 233

" Sometimes among the French, Signor. But the other

night I never was so frightened I had been with an
English party ; and a lady had left a pocket-book on the
mountain, where she had been sketching. She offered me
a handsome sum to return for it, and bring it to her at
Naples. So I went in the evening. I found it, sure
enough ; and was about to return , when I saw a figure
that seemed to emerge from the crater itself. The air
there was so pestiferous, that I could not have conceived
a human creature could breathe it, and live. I was so
astounded that I stood still as a stone , till the figure came
over the hot ashes, and stood before me, face to face.
Santa Maria, what a head ! ”
"What ! hideous ? "
"No ; so beautiful, but so terrible. It had nothing
human in its aspect. "
"And what said the salamander ? "
Nothing ! It did not even seem to perceive me, though
I was near as I am to you : but its eyes seemed to emerge
prying into the air. It passed by me quickly, and , walking
across a stream of burning lava, soon vanished on the
other side of the mountain . I was curious and foolhardy,
and resolved to see if I could bear the atmosphere which
this visitor had left ; but, though I did not advance within
thirty yards of the spot at which he had first appeared ,
I was driven back by a vapor that well- nigh stifled me.
Cospetto 1 have spat blood ever since. "
" Now will I lay a wager that you fancy this fire-king
must be Zanoni, " whispered Mervale, laughing.
20 *
234 ZANONI .

The little party had now arrived nearly at the summit

of the mountain ; and unspeakably grand was the spec-
tacle on which they gazed. From the crater arose a vapor,
intensely dark, that overspread the whole background of
the heavens ; in the centre whereof rose a flame, that
assumed a form singularly beautiful. It might have been
compared to a crest of gigantic feathers, the diadem of
the mountain, high-arched, and drooping downward, with
the hues delicately shaded off, and the whole shifting and
tremulous as the plumage on a warrior's helmet. The

glare of the flame spread, luminous and crimson, over the

dark and rugged ground on which they stood, and drew
an innumerable variety of shadows from crag and hollow.
An oppressive and sulphureous exhalation served to in-
crease the gloomy and sublime terror of the place. But
on turning from the mountain, and towards the distant
and unseen ocean, the contrast was wonderfully great ;
the heavens serene and blue, the stars still and calm as
the eyes of Divine Love. It was as if the realms of the
opposing principles of Evil and of Good were brought in
one view before the gaze of man ! Glyndon.—once more
the enthusiast, the artist - was enchained and entranced
by emotions vague and undefinable, half of delight and
half of pain. Leaning on the shoulder of his friend, he
gazed around him, and heard with deepening awe, the
rumbling of the earth below, the wheels and voices of the
Ministry of Nature in her darkest and most inscrutable
recess. Suddenly as a bomb from a shell, a huge stone
 ZANONI . 235

was flung hundreds of yards up from the jaws of the cra-

ter, and, falling with a mighty crash upon the rock below,
split into ten thousand fragments, which bounded down
the sides of the mountain, sparkling and groaning as they
went. One of these, the largest fragment, struck the
narrow space of soil between the Englishmen and the
guide, not three feet from the spot where the former stood.
Mervale uttered an exclamation of terror, and Glyndon
held his breath, and shuddered .
" Diavolo ! ” cried the guide, " Descend , Excellencies
- descend ! we have not a moment to lose : follow me
close ! "
So saying, the guide and the peasant fled with as much
swiftness as they were able to bring to bear. Mervale,
ever more prompt and ready than his friend , imitated
their example ; and Glyndon, more confused than alarmed,
followed close. But they had not gone many yards, before,
with a rushing and sudden blast, came from the crater an
enormous volume of vapor. It pursued it overtook-
it overspread them. It swept the light from the heavens.
All was abrupt and utter darkness ; and through the
gloom was heard the shout of the guide , already distant,
and lost in an instant amidst the sound of the rushing
gust and the groans of the earth beneath. Glyndon
paused. He was separated from his friend from the
guide . He was alone- with the Darkness and the Terror.
The vapor rolled sullenly away ; the form of the plumed
fire was again dimly visible, and its struggling and per-
236 ZANONI.

turbed reflection again shed a glow over the horrors of

the path. Glyndon recovered himself, and sped onward .
Below, he heard the voice of Mervale calling on him,
though he no longer saw his form. The sound served as
a guide. Dizzy and breathless, he bounded forward ;
when-hark !-a sullen , slow, rolling sounded in his ear !
He halted-and turned back to gaze. The fire had over-
flowed its course : it had opened itself a channel amidst
the furrows of the mountain. The stream pursued him
fast-fast ; and the hot breath of the chasing and preter-
natural foe came closer and closer upon his cheek ! He
turned aside he climbed desperately, with hands and
feet, upon a crag, that, to the right, broke the scathed
and blasted level of the soil. The stream rolled beside
and beneath him, and then, taking a sudden wind round
the spot on which he stood, interposed its liquid fire - a
broad and impassable barrier between his resting - place
and escape. There he stood, cut off from descent, and
with no alternative but to retrace his steps towards the
crater, and thence seek, without guide or clue, some other
pathway.
For a moment his courage left him : he cried in despair,
and in that over-strained pitch of voice which is never
heard afar off, to the guide to Mervale, to return to aid
him.
No answer came ; and the Englishman , thus abandoned
solely to his own resources, felt his spirit and energy rise
against the danger. He turned back, and ventured as
 ZANONI . 237

far towards the crater as the noxious exhalation would

permit ; then, gazing below, carefully and deliberately,
he chalked out for himself a path, by which he trusted to
shun the direction the fire -stream had taken ; and trod
firmly and quickly over the crumbling and heated strata.
He had proceeded about fifty yards , when he halted
abruptly ; an unspeakable and unaccountable horror, not
hitherto experienced amidst all his peril, came over him.
He shook in every limb ; his muscles refused his will- he
felt, as it were, palsied and death -stricken. The horror,
I say, was unaccountable, for the path seemed clear and
safe. The fire, above and behind, burned clear and far ;

and beyond , the stars lent him their cheering guidance.

No obstacle was visible- no danger seemed at hand. As
thus, spell-bound and panic-stricken, he stood chained to :
the soil his breast heaving ; large drops rolling down
his brow ; and his eyes starting wildly from their sockets
-he saw before him, at some distance, gradually shaping
itself more and more distinctly to his gaze, a Colossal
Shadow a shadow that seemed partially borrowed from
the human shape, but immeasurably above the human
stature ; vague, dark, almost formless ; and differing, he
could not tell where, or why, not only from the propor-
tions, but also from the limbs and outline of man .
The glare of the volcano, that seemed to shrink and
collapse from this gigantic and appalling apparition ,
nevertheless threw its light, redly and steadily, upon an-
other shape that stood beside, quiet and motionless ; and
238 ZANONI .

it was, perhaps, the contrast of these two things, - the

Being and the Shadow, - that impressed the beholder
with the difference between them - the Man and the
-
Superhuman. It was but for a moment, -nay, for the
tenth part of a moment,.- that this sight was permitted
to the wanderer. A second eddy of sulphureous vapor,
from the volcano , yet more rapidly , yet more densely than
its predecessor, rolled over the mountain ; and either the
nature of the exhalation , or the excess of his own dread ,
was such, that Glyndon , after one wild gasp for breath,
fell senseless on the earth .

CHAPTER XI .
Was hab' ich,
Wenn ich nicht Alles habe ? -sprach der Jüngling. *
DAS VERSCHLEIERTE BILD ZU SAIS.

MERVALE and the Italians arrived in safety at the spot

where they had left the mules ; and not till they had re-
covered their own alarm and breath did they think of
Glyndon . But then, as the minutes passed, and he ap-
peared not, Mervale, whose heart was as good, at least,
as human hearts are in general, grew seriously alarmed.
He insisted on returning, to search for his friend ; and by
dint of prodigal promises, prevailed at last on the guide
to accompany him. The lower part of the mountain lay

* What have I, if I possess not All ? " said the youth.

 ZANONI . 239

calm and white in the starlight ; and the guide's practised

eye could discern all objects on the surface, at a consider-
able distance . They had not, however, gone very far,
before they perceived two forms, slowly approaching
towards them.
As they came near, Mervale recognized the form of his
friend. " Thank Heaven, he is safe ! " he cried , turning
to the guide.
" Holy angels, befriend us ! " said the Italian , trembling
" Behold the very being that crossed me last Friday
night. It is he but his face is human now ! "
A
" Signor Inglese, " said the voice of Zanoni, as Glyn-
don- pale, wan, and silent- returned passively the joyous
greeting of Mervale, " Signor Inglese, I told your friend
that we should meet to -night. You see you have not
foiled my prediction . "
" But how ?-but where ? " stammered Mervale , in great
confusion and surprise .
" I found your friend stretched on the ground , over-
powered by the mephitic exhalation of the crater. I bore
him to a purer atmosphere ; and, as I know the mountain
well, I have conducted him safely to you . This is all our
history. You see, sir, that were it not for that prophecy
which you desired to frustrate, your friend would, ere
this time, have been a corpse : one minute more, and the
vapor had done its work. Adieu ; good night, and plea-
sant dreams. "
" But, my preserver, you will not leave us ! " said Glyn-
240 ZANONI .

don, anxiously, and speaking for the first time. "Will

you not return with us ? "
Zanoni paused, and drew Glyndon aside. " Young
man," said he, gravely, " it is necessary that we should
again meet to-night. It is necessary that you should , ere
the first hour of morning, decide on your own fate. I
know that you have insulted her whom you profess to
love. It is not too late to repent. Consult not your
friend ; - he is sensible and wise ; but not now is his
wisdom needed. There are times in life, when, from the
imagination, and not the reason, should wisdom come -
this, for you, is one of them. I ask not your answer now.
Collect your thoughts- recover your jaded and scattered
spirits. It wants two hours of midnight. Before mid-
night I will be with you. "
' Incomprehensible being ! " replied the Englishman ,
" I would leave the life you have preserved in your own
hands ; but what I have seen this night has swept even
Viola from my thoughts. A fiercer desire than that of
love burns in my veins-the desire not to resemble but to
surpass my kind - the desire to penetrate and to share
the secret of your own existence-the desire of a preter-
natural knowledge and unearthly power. I make my
choice. In my ancestor's name, I adjure and remind thee
of thy pledge. Instruct me ; school me ; make me thine ;
and I surrender to thee at once, and without a murmur,
the woman whom, till I saw thee, I would have defied a
world to obtain . "
 ZANONI . 241

" I bid thee consider well ; on the one hand, Viola , a

tranquil home, a happy and serene life. On the other
hand , all is darkness darkness, that even these eyes
cannot penetrate . "
" But thou hast told me, that if I wed Viola, I must
be contented with the common existence, -if I refuse, it
is to aspire to thy knowledge and thy power. "
" Vain man ! — knowledge and power are not happi-
ness. "
66
But they are better than happiness. Say ! - if. I
marry Viola, wilt thou be my master my guide ? Say
this, and I am resolved . "
"It were impossible. "
" Then I renounce her ! I renounce love. I renounce

appiness . Welcome solitude- welcome despair ; if they

22
are the entrances to thy dark and sublime secret. '
" I will not take thy answer now. Before the last hour
of night, thou shalt give it in one word — ay or no ! Fare-
well till then. "
Zanoni waved his hand ; and descending rapidly, was
seen no more.
Glyndon rejoined his impatient and wondering friend ;
but Mervale, gazing on his face, saw that a great change
had passed there . The flexile and dubious expression of
youth was for ever gone . The features were locked , rigid,
and stern ; and so faded was the natural bloom, that an
hour seemed to have done the work of years.

I. — 21
242 ZANONI.

CHAPTER XII .

Was ist's
Das hinter diesem Schleier sich verbirgt ? *
DAS VERSCHLEIERTE BILD ZU SAIS.

ON returning from Vesuvius or Pompeii, you enter

Naples through its most animated, its most Neapolitan
quarter-through that quarter in which Modern life most
closely resembles the Ancient ; and in which, when, on a
fair day, the thoroughfare swarms alike with Indolence
and Trade, you are impressed at once with the recollec
tion of that restless , lively race, from which the popu
lation of Naples derives its origin ; so that in one day
you may see at Pompeii the habitations of a remote age ;
and on the Mole, at Naples, you may imagine you behold
the very beings with whom those habitations had been
peopled.
But now, as the Englishmen rode slowly through the
deserted streets, lighted but by the lamps of heaven, all
the gaiety of day was hushed and breathless. IIere and
there, stretched under a portico or a dingy booth , were
sleeping groups of houseless Lazzaroni : a tribe now
merging its indolent individuality amidst an energetic and
active population .

What is it that conceals itself behind this veil ?

 ZANONI . 243

The Englishmen rode on in silence ; for Glyndon neither

appeared to heed nor hear the questions and comments
of Mervale, and Mervale himself was almost as weary as
the jaded animal he bestrode.
Suddenly the silence of earth and ocean was broken by
the sound of a distant clock, that proclaimed the quarter
preceding the last hour of night. Glyndon started from
his reverie, and looked anxiously round . As the final
stroke died , the noise of hoofs rung on the broad stones
of the pavement ; and from a narrow street to the right,
emerged the form of a solitary horseman. He neared the
Englishmen , and Glyndon recognized the features and
mien of Zanoni.
" What ! do we meet again, Signor ? " said Mervale, in
a vexed but drowsy tone.
" Your friend and I have business together," replied
Zanoni, as he wheeled his steed to the side of Glyndon.
"But it will be soon transacted. Perhaps you, sir, will
ride on to your hotel. "
"Alone !"
""
There is no danger ! " returned Zanoni, with a slight
expression of disdain in his voice.
"" None to me ; but to Glyndon ? "
" Danger from me ! Ah, perhaps you are right. "
" Go on, my dear Mervale, " said Glyndon : " I will
join you before you reach the hotel. "
Mervale nodded , whistled , and pushed his horse into a
kind of amble.
" Now your answer - quick ! "
244 ZANONI .

" I have decided . The love of Viola has vanished from

my heart. The pursuit is over. "
" You have decided ? "
" I have ; and now my reward. "
"Thy reward ! Well ; ere this hour to-morrow, it shall
await thee. "
Zanoni gave the rein to his horse ; it sprang forward
with a bound ; the sparks flew from its hoofs, and horse
and rider disappeared amidst the shadows of the street
whence they had emerged .
Mervale was surprised to see his friend by his side, a
minute after they had parted .
" What has passed between you and Zanoni ? "
""
Mervale, do not ask me to-night ! I am in a dream. "
" I do not wonder at it, for even I am in a sleep. Let
us push on. "
In the retirement of his chamber, Glyndon sought to
re-collect his thoughts. He sat down on the foot of his
bed, and pressed his hands tightly to his throbbing tem-
ples. The events of the last few hours ; the apparition
of the gigantic and shadowy Companion of the Mystic,
amidst the fires and clouds of Vesuvius ; the strange en-
counter with Zanoni himself, on a spot in which he could
never, by ordinary reasoning, have calculated on finding
Glyndon, filled his mind with emotions, in which terror
and awe the least prevailed . A fire, the train of which
had been long laid , was lighted at his heart- the asbestos-
fire, that, once lit, is never to be quenched . All his early
aspirations his young ambition his longings for the
 ZANONI . 245

laurel, were merged in one passionate yearning to over-

pass the bounds of the common knowledge of man, and
reach that solemn spot, between two worlds, on which the
mysterious stranger appeared to have fixed his home.
Far from recalling with renewed affright the remem-
brance of the apparition that had so appalled him, the
recollection only served to kindle and concentrate his
curiosity into a burning focus. He had said aright- love
had vanished from his heart ; there was no longer a
serene space amidst its disordered elements for human
affection to move and breathe. The enthusiast was rapt
from this earth ; and he would have surrendered all that
mortal beauty ever promised, that mortal hope ever
whispered, for one hour with Zanoni beyond the portals
of the visible world .
He rose, oppressed and fevered with the new thoughts
that raged within him , and threw open his casement for
air. The ocean lay suffused in the starry light, and the
stillness of the heavens never more eloquently preached
the morality of repose to the madness of earthly passions.
But such was Glyndon's mood, that their very hush only
served to deepen the wild desires that preyed upon his
soul ; and the solemn stars, that are mysteries in them-
selves, seemed , by a kindred sympathy, to agitate the
wings of the spirit no longer contented with its cage. As
he gazed , a Star shot from its brethren , and vanished
from the depth of space !

21 *
246 ZANONI .

CHAPTER XIII .

O, be gone !
By heaven, I love thee better than myself,
For I came hither arm'd against myself.
ROMEO AND JULIET.

THE young actress and Gionetta had returned from the

theatre ; and Viola, fatigued and exhausted, had thrown
herself on a sofa, while Gionetta busied herself with the
long tresses, which, released from the fillet that bound
them, half-concealed the form of the actress , like a veil
of threads of gold . As she smoothed the luxuriant locks,
the old nurse ran gossiping on about the little events of
the night, the scandal and politics of the scenes and the
tire-room . Gionetta was a worthy soul. Almanzor, in
Dryden's tragedy of "Almahide, " did not change sides
with more gallant indifference than the exemplary nurse.
She was at last grieved and scandalized that Viola had
not selected one chosen cavalier. But the choice she left
wholly to her fair charge. Zegri or Abencerrage, Glyn-
don or Zanoni, it had been the same to her, except that
the rumors she had collected respecting the latter, com-
bined with his own recommendations of his rival, had
given her preference to the Englishman. She interpreted
ill the impatient and heavy sigh with which Viola greeted
her praises of Glyndon, and her wonder that he had of
late so neglected his attentions behind the scenes, and she
 ZANONI . 247

exhausted all her powers of panegyric upon the supposed

object of the sigh . "And then too, " she said , " if nothing
else were to be said against the other Signor, it is enough
that he is about to leave Naples. "
" Leave Naples ! - Zanoni ? "
"
' Yes, darling ! In passing by the Mole to-day, there
was a crowd round some outlandish-looking sailors. His
ship arrived this morning , and anchors in the bay. The
sailors say that they are to be prepared to sail with the

first wind ; they were taking in fresh stores. They- "

" Leave me, Gionetta ! Leave me ! "
The time had already passed when the girl could con-
fide in Gionetta . Her thoughts had advanced to that
point when the heart recoils from all confidence, and feels
that it cannot be comprehended. Alone now, in the prin-
cipal apartment of the house, she paced its narrow boun-
daries with tremulous and agitated steps : she recalled the
frightful suit of Nicot,-the injurious taunt of Glyndon ;
and she sickened at the remembrance of the hollow ap-
plauses, which, bestowed on the actress, not the woman,
only subjected her to contumely and insult. In that room
the recollection of her father's death , the withered laurel
and the broken chords, rose chillingly before her. Hers ,
she felt, was a yet gloomier fate - the chords may break
while the laurel is yet green. The lamp, waning in its
socket, burned pale and dim, and her eyes instinctively
turned from the darker corner of the room . Orphan ! by
the hearth of thy parents, dost thou fear the presence of
the dead ?
248 ZANONI.

And was Zanoni indeed about to quit Naples ? Should

she see him no more ? Oh, fool, to think that there was
grief in any other thought ! The Past ! -that was gone !
The Future !-there was no Future to her, Zanoni absent !
But this was the night of the third day on which Zanoni
had told her that, come what might, he would visit her
again. It was, then , if she might believe him, some ap-
pointed crisis in her fate ; and how should she tell him of
Glyndon's hateful words ? The pure and the proud mind
can never confide its wrongs to another, only its triumphs
and its happiness . But at that late hour would Zanoni
visit her could she receive him ? Midnight was at hand.
Still in undefined suspense, in intense anxiety, she lingered
in the room. The quarter before midnight sounded , dull
and distant. All was still, and she was about to pass to
her sleeping-room, when she heard the hoofs of a horse at
full speed ; the sound ceased ; there was a knock at the
door. Her heart beat violently ; but fear gave way to
another sentiment when she heard a voice, too well known,
calling on her name. She paused, and then with the fear-
lessness of innocence, descended , and unbarred the door.
Zanoni entered with a light and hasty step. His horse-
man's cloak fitted tightly to his noble form ; and his broad
hat threw a gloomy shade over his commanding features.
The girl followed him into the room she had just left,
trembling and blushing deeply, and stood before him with
the lamp she held shining upward on her cheek and the
long hair that fell like a shower of light over the half- clad
shoulders and heaving bust.
 ZANONI . 249

" Viola," said Zanoni, in a voice that spoke deep emo-

tion, " I am by thy side once more to save thee. Not a
moment is to be lost. Thou must fly with me, or remain
the victim of the Prince di I would have made the
large I now undertake another's ; thou knowest I would
thou knowest it ! —but he is not worthy of thee , the
cold Englishman ! I throw myself at thy feet ; have trust
in me, and fly."
He grasped her hand passionately as he dropped on
his knee, and looked up into her face with his bright be-
seeching eyes.
" Fly with thee ! " said Viola, scarce believing her
senses.
" With me. Name, fame, honor-all will be sacrificed
if thou dost not. "
"Then then, " said the wild girl, falteringly, and turn-
ing aside her face ; " then I am not indifferent to thee ?—
thou wouldst not give me to another ? "
Zanoni was silent ; but his breast heaved , his cheeks
flushed, his eyes darted dark and impassioned fire.
""
' Speak ! " exclaimed Viola, in jealous suspicion of his
silence.
" Indifferent to me ! No ; but I dare not yet say that
I love thee. "
" Then what matters my fate ? " said Viola, turning
pale, and shrinking from his side ; " leave me I fear no
danger. My life, and therefore my honor, is in mine own
hands . "
" Be not so mad, " said Zanoni. "" Hark ! do you hear
250 ZANONI.

the neigh of my steed ? it is an alarum that warns us

of the approaching peril. Haste, or you are lost ! "
66
Why dost thou care for me ? " said the girl, bitterly.
" Thou hast read my heart ; thou knowest that thou art
become the lord of my destiny. But to be bound beneath
the weight of a cold obligation ; to be the beggar on the
eyes of Indifference ; to cast myself on one who loves me
not ; that were indeed the vilest sin of my sex. Ah, Za-
noni, rather let me die ! "
She had thrown back her clustering hair from her face
while she spoke ; and as she now stood , with her arms
drooping mournfully, and her hands clasped together with
the proud bitterness of her wayward spirit, giving new
zest and charm to her singular beauty, it was impossible
to conceive a sight more irresistible to the eye and the
heart.
66
Tempt me not to thine own danger-perhaps destruc-
tion ! " exclaimed Zanoni, in faltering accents. " Thou
canst not dream of what thou wouldst demand -come ! "
and, advancing, he wound his arm around her waist.
" Come, Viola ; believe at least in my friendship, my
99
honor, my protection
"And not thy love, " said the Italian, turning on him
her reproachful eyes. Those eyes met his, and he could
not withdraw from the charm of their gaze. He felt her
heart throbbing beneath his own ; her breath came warm
upon his cheek. He trembled 1 He ! the lofty, the mys-
terious Zanoni , who seemed to stand aloof from his race.
With a deep and burning sigh, he murmured, " Viola, I
 ZANONI . 251

love thee ! Oh ! " he continued, passionately, and releas-

ing his hold, he threw himself abruptly at her feet , " I
no more command ; as woman should be wooed , I woo
thee. From the first glance of those eyes - from the

first sound of thy voice, thou becamest too fatally dear to

me. Thou speakest of fascination- it lives and it breathes
in thee ! I fled from Naples to fly from thy presence -
it pursued me. Months, years passed, and thy sweet face
still shone upon my heart. I returned , because I pictured
thee alone and sorrowful in the world : and knew that
dangers, from which I might save thee, were gathering
near thee and around . Beautiful Soul ! whose leaves I
have read with reverence, it was for thy sake, thine alone,
that I would have given thee to one who might make thee
happier on earth than I can. Viola ! Viola ! thou know-
est not never canst thou know. - how dear thou art to
me !"
It is in vain to seek for words to describe the delight—
the proud, the full, the complete, and the entire delight
that filled the heart of the Neapolitan . He whom she
had considered too lofty even for love -- more humble to
her than those she had half-despised ! She was silent,
but her eyes spoke to him ; and then slowly, as aware, at
last, that the human love had advanced on the ideal, she
shrunk into the terrors of a modest and virtuous nature.
She did not dare - - she did not dream to ask him the

question she had so fearlessly made to Glyndon ; but she

felt a sudden coldness a sense that a barrier was yet
between love and love. ""
Oh, Zanoni ! " she murmured,
252 ZANONI .

with downcast eyes, "ask me not to fly with thee ; tempt

me not to my shame. Thou wouldst protect me from
others. Oh, protect me from thyself ! "
" Poor orphan ! " said he tenderly, " and canst thou
think that I ask from thee one sacrifice, —
- -still less the
greatest that woman can give to love ? As my wife I
woo thee, and by every tie, and by every vow that can
hallow and endear affection. Alas ! they have belied
love to thee indeed , if thou dost not know the religion
that belongs to it ! They who truly love would seek, for
the treasure they obtain, every bond that can make it
lasting and secure. Viola, weep not, unless thou givest
me the holy right to kiss away thy tears ! "
And that beautiful face, no more averted , drooped upon
his bosom ; and as he bent down , his lips sought the rosy
mouth a long and burning kiss- — danger -life - the
world was forgotten ! Suddenly Zanoni tore himselffrom
her.
" Hearest thou the wind that sighs, and dies away ?
As that wind, my power to preserve thee, to guard thee,
to foresee the storm in thy skies, is gone. No matter.
Haste, haste ; and may love supply the loss of all that it
has dared to sacrifice ! Come. "
Viola hesitated no more. She threw the mantle over

her shoulders, and gathered up her dishevelled hair ; a

moment, and she was prepared, when a sudden crash was
heard below.
"Too late !-fool that I was- too late ! " cried Zanoni,
in a sharp tone of agony, as he hurried to the door. He
 ZANONI . 253

opened it, only to be borne back by the press of armed

men . The room literally swarmed with the followers of
the ravisher, masked, and armed to the teeth.
Viola was already in the grasp of two ofthe myrmidons.
Her shriek smote the ear of Zanoni. He sprang forward :
and Viola heard his wild cry in a foreign tongue. She
saw the blades of the ruffians pointed at his breast ! She
lost her senses ; and when she recovered , she found herself
gagged, and in a carriage that was driven rapidly, by the
side of a masked and motionless figure. The carriage
stopped at the portals of a gloomy mansion . The gates
opened noiselessly ; a broad flight of steps, brilliantly
illumined , was before her. She was in the palace of the
Prince di

CHAPTER XIV .

Ma lasciamo, per Dio, Signore, ormai

Di parlar d' ira, e di cantar di morte. *
ORL. FUR., Canto xvii.

THE young actress was led to, and left alone in, а
chamber adorned with all the luxurious and half-Eastern
taste that, at one time, characterized the palaces of the
great seigneurs of Italy. Her first thought was for
Zanoni. Was he yet living ? Had he escaped unscathed

* But leave me, I solemnly conjure thee, Signor, to speak of

wrath, and to sing of death.
I..G 22
254 ZANONI .

the blades of the foe ? - her new treasure. the new light
of her life.— her lord, at last her lover ?
She had short time for reflection . She heard steps
approaching the chamber ; she drew back, but trembled
.
not. A courage, not of herself, never known before ,
sparkled in her eyes, and dilated her stature. Living or
dead, she would be faithful still to Zanoni ! There was
a new motive to the preservation of honor. The door
opened, and the Prince entered in the gorgeous and gaudy
costume still worn at that time in Naples.
" Fair and cruel one," said he, advancing, with a half-
sneer upon his lip, "thou wilt not too harshly blame the
violence of love. " He attempted to take her hand as he
spoke.
"Nay," said he, as she recoiled, " reflect that thou art
now in the power of one that never faltered in the pursuit
of an object less dear to him than thou art. Thy lover,
presumptuous though he be, is not by to save thee. Mine
thou art ; but instead of thy master, suffer me to be thy
slave."

Prince, " said Viola, with a stern gravity, " your boast
is in vain. Your power ! I am not in your power. Life
and death are in my own hands. I will not defy, but I
do not fear you. I feel - and in some feelings," added
Viola, with a solemnity almost thrilling, "there is all the
strength, and all the divinity of knowledge - I feel that
I am safe even here ; but you - you, Prince di have
brought danger to your home and hearth ! "
The Neapolitan seemed startled by an earnestness and
 ZANONI . 255

boldness he was but little prepared for. He was not,

however, a man easily intimidated or deterred from any
purpose he had formed ; and, approaching Viola, he was
about to reply with much warmth , real or affected, when
a knock was heard at the door of the chamber. The sound
was repeated , and the Prince, chafed at the interruption,
opened the door and demanded, impatiently, who had
ventured to disobey his orders, and invade his leisure .
Mascari presented himself, pale and agitated : " My lord,"
said he, in a whisper, " pardon me ; but a stranger is
below, who insists on seeing you ; and, from some words.
he let fall, I judged it advisable even to infringe your
commands. "
"A stranger ! - and at this hour ! What business can
he pretend ? Why was he even admitted ! "
"He asserts that your life is in imminent danger. The
source whence it proceeds he will relate to your Excellency
alone."
The Prince frowned ; but his color changed . He mused
a moment, and then re-entering the chamber, and advanc-
ing towards Viola , he said ----
""
Believe me, fair creature, I have no wish to take
advantage of my power. I would fain trust alone to the
gentler authorities of affection . Hold yourself queen
within these walls more absolutely than you have ever
enacted that part on the stage . To -night, farewell !
May your sleep be calm, and your dreams propitious to
my hopes. "
With these words he retired, and in a few moments
256 ZANONI.

Viola was surrounded by officious attendants, whom she

at length, with some difficulty, dismissed ; and refusing
to retire to rest, she spent the night in examining the
chamber, which she found was secured , and in thoughts
of Zanoni, in whose power she felt an almost preternatural
confidence.
Meanwhile, the Prince descended the stairs, and sought
the room into which the stranger had been shown.
He found the visitor wrapped from head to foot in a
long robe —-half- gown half-mantle - such as was some-
times worn by ecclesiastics. The face of this stranger
was remarkable. So sunburnt and swarthy were his hues,
that he must, apparently, have derived his origin amongst
the races of the furthest East. His forehead was lofty,
and his eyes so penetrating, yet so calm in their gaze,
that the Prince shrunk from them as we shrink from a
questioner who is drawing forth the guiltiest secret of
our hearts.
"What would you with me ? " asked the Prince, motion-
ing his visitor to a seat.
" Prince of ," said the stranger, in a voice deep
and sweet, but foreign in its accent ; "" son of the most

energetic and masculine race that ever applied god -like

genius to the service of Human Will, with its winding
wickedness and its stubborn grandeur ; descendant of the
great Visconti, in whose chronicles lies the History of
Italy in her palmy day, and in whose rise was the develop-
ment ofthe mightiest intellect, ripened bythe most restless
ambition, I come to gaze upon the last star in a darkening
 ZANONI . 257

firmament. By this hour to -morrow, space shall know it

not. Man unless thy whole nature change, thy days are
numbered ! "
" What means this jargon ? " said the Prince, in visible
astonishment and secret awe. ""'Comest thou to menace

me in my own halls , or wouldst thou warn me of a danger ?

Art thou some itinerant mountebank, or some unguessed-
of friend ? Speak out, and plainly. What danger threatens
me ?"
"Zanoni and thy ancestor's sword, " replied the stranger.
" Ha ha ! " said the Prince laughing scornfully, " I half
suspected thee from the first. Thou art then the accom-
plice or the tool of that most dexterous, but, at present,
defeated charlatan ? And I suppose thou wilt tell me
that, if I were to release a certain captive I have made,
the danger would vanish, and the hand of the dial would
be put back ? "
66 · I confess
' Judge of me as thou wilt, Prince di
my knowledge of Zanoni. Thou , too , wilt know his
power, but not till it consume thee. I would save, there-
fore I warn thee . Dost thou ask me why ? I will tell
thee. Canst thou remember to have heard wild tales of
thy grandsire ? of his desire for a knowledge that passes
that of the schools and cloisters ?-of a strange man from
the east, who was his familiar and master in lore, against
which the Vatican has , from age to age, launched its
mimic thunder ? Dost thou call to mind the fortunes of

thy ancestor ? how he succeeded in youth to little but

a name ? -how, after a career wild and dissolute as thine,
22 * R
258 ZANONI .

he disappeared from Milan, a pauper, and a self-exile ? -

how after years spent, none knew in what climes or in
what pursuits, he again revisited the city where his pro-
genitors had reigned ? -how with him came the wise man
of the East, the mystic Mejnour ? -how they who beheld
him, beheld with amaze and fear that time had ploughed
no furrow on his brow ; that youth seemed fixed, as by a
spell, upon his face and form ? Dost thou not know that
from that hour his fortunes rose ? Kinsmen the most
remote died ; estate upon estate fell into the hands of
the ruined noble. He became the guide of princes, the
first magnate of Italy. He founded anew the house of
which thou art the last lineal upholder, and transferred
his splendor from Milan to the Sicilian realms. Visions
of high ambition were then present with him nightly and
daily. Had he lived, Italy would have known a new
dynasty, and the Visconti would have reigned over Magna-
Græcia. He was a man such as the world rarely sees ;
but his ends, too earthly, were at war with the means he
sought. Had his ambition been more or less, he had
been worthy of a realm mightier than the Cæsars swayed ;
worthy of our solemn order ; worthy of the fellowship of
Mejnour, whom you now behold before you. "
The Prince, who had listened with deep and breathless
attention to the words of his singular guest, started from
his seat at his last words. "L' Impostor ! " he cried , " can
you dare thus to play with my credulity ? Sixty years.
have flown since my grandsire died ; were he living, he
had passed his hundred and twentieth year ; and you,
 ZANONI. 259

whose old age is erect and vigorous, have the assurance

to pretend to have been his contemporary ! But you have
imperfectly learned your tale. You know not, it seems,
that my grandsire, wise and illustrious indeed, in all save
his faith in a charlatan, was found dead in his bed, in the
very hour when his colossal plans were ripe for execution ,
and that Mejnour was guilty of his murder. "
"Alas ! " answered the stranger, in a voice of great
sadness, " had he but listened to Mejnour, had he but
delayed the last and most perilous ordeal of daring wisdom
until the requisite training and initiation had been com-
pleted, your ancestor would have stood with me upon an
eminence which the waters of Death itself wash everlast-
ingly, but cannot overflow. Your grandsire resisted my
fervent prayers, disobeyed my most absolute commands,
and in the sublime rashness of a soul that panted for
secrets, which he who desires orbs and sceptres never can
obtain, perished, the victim of his own frenzy."
" He was poisoned , and Mejnour fled. "
66
'Mejnour fled not," answered the stranger, proudly ;
" Mejnour could not fly from danger ; for, to him, danger
is a thing long left behind. It was the day before the
duke took the fatal draught which he believed was to
confer on the mortal the immortal boon, that finding my
power over him was gone, I abandoned him to his doom.
But a truce with this : I loved your grandsire ! I would
save the last of his race. Oppose not thyself to Zanoni.
Yield not thy soul to thine evil passions. Draw back
from the precipice while there is yet time. In thy front,
260 ZANONI.

and in thine eyes, I detect some of that diviner glory

which belonged to thy race. Thou hast in thee some
germs of their hereditary genius, but they are choked up
by worse than thy hereditary vices. Recollect that by
genius thy house rose ; by vice it ever failed to perpetuate
its power. In the laws which regulate the Universe, it
is decreed that nothing wicked can long endure. Be wise ,
and let history warn thee. Thou standest on the verge
of two worlds, the Past and the Future ; and voices from
either shriek omen in thy ear. I have done. I bid thee
farewell ! "
""
'Not so ; thou shalt not quit these walls. I will make
experiment of thy boasted power. What, ho there ! -
ho ! "
The Prince shouted ; the room was filled with his
minions.
" Seize that man ! " he cried, pointing to the spot which
had been filled by the form of Mejnour. To his incon-
ceivable amaze and horror, the spot was vacant. The
mysterious stranger had vanished like a dream . But a

thin and fragrant mist undulated, in pale volumes, round

the walls of the chamber. " Look to my lord, " cried
Mascari. The Prince had fallen to the floor insensible.
For many hours he seemed in a kind of trance. When
he recovered, he dismissed his attendants, and his step
was heard in his chamber, pacing to and fro, with heavy
and disordered strides. Not till an hour before his ban-
quet the next day did he seem restored to his wonted self,
 ZANONI . 261

CHAPTER XV .

Oime ! come poss' io

Altri trovar, se me trovar non posso."*
AMINT., At. i. Sc. ii.

THE sleep of Glyndon, the night after his last interview

with Zanoni, was unusually profound ; and the sun streamed
full upon his eyes, as he opened them to the day. He
rose refreshed, and with a strange sentiment of calmness,
that seemed more the result of resolution than exhaustion .
The incidents and emotions of the past night had settled
into distinct and clear impressions. He thought of them
but slightly he thought rather of the future. He was
as one of the initiated in the old Egyptian mysteries, who
have crossed the gate only to long more ardently for the
penetralia.
He dressed himself, and was relieved to find that Mervale
had joined a party of his countrymen on an excursion to
Ischia. He spent the heat of noon in thoughtful solitude,
and gradually the image of Viola returned to his heart.
It was a holy for it was a human - image. He had
resigned her ; and though he repented not, he was troubled
at the thought that repentance would have come too late.
He started impatiently from his seat, and strode with
rapid steps to the humble abode of the actress .

* Alas ! how can I find another, when I cannot find myself?

262 ZANONI .

The distance was considerable, and the air oppressive.

Glyndon arrived at the door breathless and heated . He
knocked ; no answer came. He lifted the latch and
entered . He ascended the stairs : no sound, no sight of

life met his ear and eye. In the front chamber, on a table ,
lay the guitar of the actress and some manuscript parts in
the favorite operas. He paused , and summoning courage,
tapped at the door which seemed to lead into the inner
apartment. The door was ajar ; and, hearing no sound
within, he pushed it open. It was the sleeping chamber
of the young actress, that holiest ground to a lover ; and
well did the place become the presiding deity ; none of
the tawdry finery of the profession was visible, on the
one hand ; none of the slovenly disorder common to the
humbler classes of the south, on the other. All was pure
and simple : even the ornaments were those of an innocent
refinement ; a few books, placed carefully on shelves, a few
half-faded flowers in an earthen vase, which was modelled
and painted in the Etruscan fashion . The sunlight stream-
ed over the snowy draperies of the bed, and a few articles
of clothing on the chair beside it Viola was not there ;
but the nurse ! -was she gone also ? He made the house
resound with the name of Gionetta, but there was not
even an echo to reply. At last, as he reluctantly quitted
the desolate abode, he perceived Gionetta coming towards
him from the street. The poor old woman uttered an

exclamation of joy on seeing him ; but to their mutual

disappointment, neither had any cheerful tidings or satis-
factory explanation to afford the other. Gionetta had
 ZANONI . 263

been aroused from her slumber the night before by the

noise in the rooms below ; but, ere she could muster
courage to descend, Viola was gone ! She found the
marks of violence on the door without ; and all she had
been able to learn in the neighborhood , was, that a Laz-
zarone, from his nocturnal resting- place on the Chiaja, had
seen by the moon - light a carriage, which he recognized
as belonging to the Prince di- , pass and repass that
road about the first hour of morning. Glyndon , on
gathering, from the confused words and broken sobs of
the old nurse, the heads of this account, abruptly left her,
and repaired to the palace of Zanoni. There he was
informed that the Signor was gone to the banquet of the
Prince di and would not return till late. Glyndon
stood motionless with perplexity and dismay ; he knew
not what to believe, or how to act. Even Mervale was
not at hand to advise him. His conscience smote him
bitterly. He had had the power to save the woman he
had loved , and had foregone that power ; but how was it
that in this Zanoni himself had failed ? How was it that
he was gone to the very banquet of the ravisher ? Could
Zanoni be aware of what had passed ? If not, should he
lose a moment in apprising him ? Though mentally
irresolute, no man was more physically brave. He would
repair at once to the palace of the Prince himself ; and
if Zanoni failed in the trust he had half appeared to
arrogate, he, the humble foreigner, would demand the
captive of fraud and force, in the very halls and before
the assembled guests of the Prince di
264 ZANONI .

CHAPTER XVI.

Ardua vallatur duris sapientia scrupis. *

HADR. JUN., Emblem. xxxvii.

WE must go back some hours in the progress of this

narrative. It was the first faint and gradual break of
the summer dawn ; and two men stood in a balcony
overhanging a garden fragrant with the scents of the
awakening flowers. The stars had not yet left the sky
- the birds were yet silent on the boughs ; all was still,

hushed, and tranquil ; but how different the tranquillity

of reviving day from the solemn repose of night ! In the
music of silence there are a thousand variations. These
men, who alone seemed awake in Naples, were Zanoni
and the mysterious stranger, who had but an hour or
two ago startled the Prince di in his voluptuous
palace.
" No," said the latter ; " hadst thou delayed the accept- 1
ance of the Arch- Gift until thou hadst attained to the
years, and passed through all the desolate bereavements
that chilled and seared myself, ere my researches had
made it mine, - thou wouldst have escaped the curse of
which thou complainest now, thou wouldst not have
mourned over the brevity of human affection as compared
to the duration of thine own existence ; for thou wouldst
* Lofty wisdom is circled round with rugged rocks.
 ZANONI . 265

have survived the very desire and dream of the love of

woman. Brightest, and, but for that error, perhaps the
loftiest, of the secret and solemn race that fills up the
interval in creation between mankind and the children of
the Empyreal, age after age wilt thou rue the splendid
folly which made thee ask to carry the beauty and the
passions of youth into the dreary grandeur of earthly
immortality. "
"I do not repent, nor shall I, " answered Zanoni. " The
transport and the sorrow, so wildly blended, which have
at intervals diversified my doom, are better than the calm
and bloodless tenor of thy solitary way. Thou , who lovest
nothing, hatest nothing, feelest nothing, and walkest the
world with the noiseless and joyless footsteps of a dream !
" You mistake," replied he who had owned the name of
Mejnour, "though I care not for love, and am dead to
every passion that agitates the sons of clay, I am not
dead to their more serene enjoyments. I carry down the
stream of the countless years , not the turbulent desires of
youth, but the calm and spiritual delights of age. Wisely
and deliberately I abandoned youth for ever when I sepa-
rated my lot from men. Let us not envy or reproach
each other. I would have saved this Neapolitan , Zanoni
(since so it now pleases thee to be called ) ,-partly because
his grandsire was but divided by the last airy barrier from
our own brotherhood — partly because I know that in
the man himself lurk the elements of ancestral courage
and power, which in earlier life would have fitted him for
one of us. Earth holds but few to whom nature has given
I. - 23
266 ZANONI .

the qualities that can bear the ordeal ! But time and
excess, that have thickened his grosser senses, have blunted
his imagination. I relinquish him to his doom. "
"And still, then, Mejnour, you cherish the desire to
revive our order, limited now to ourselves alone, by new
converts and allies. Surely - surely - thy experience
might have taught thee, that scarcely once in a thousand
years is born the being who can pass through the horrible
gates that lead into the worlds without ! Is not thy path
already strewed with thy victims ? Do not their ghastly
faces of agony and fear - the blood-stained suicide, the
raving maniac ―- rise before thee, and warn what is yet
left to thee of human sympathy from thy insane ambition ? "
" Nay, " answered Mejnour ; " have I not had success
to counterbalance failure ? And can I forego this lofty
and august hope, worthy alone of our high condition-
the hope to form a mighty and numerous race with a
force and power sufficient to permit them to acknowledge
to mankind their majestic conquests and dominion - to
become the true lords of this planet - invaders, perchance
of others, - masters of the inimical and malignant tribes
by which at this moment we are surrounded, —a race
that may proceed, in their deathless destinies, from stage
to stage of celestial glory, and rank at last amongst the
nearest ministrants and agents gathered round the Throne
of Thrones ? What matter a thousand victims for one
convert to our band ? And you, Zanoni, " continued
Mejnour, after a pause "you, even you, should this
affection for a mortal beauty that you have dared, despite
 ZANONI. 267

yourself, to cherish, be more than a passing fancy-should

it, once admitted into your inmost nature, partake of its
bright and enduring essence G even you may brave all
things to raise the beloved one into your equal. Nay,
interrupt me not. Can you see sickness menace her-
danger hover around G years creep on -the eyes grow
dim the beauty fade ― while the heart, youthful still,
clings and fastens round your own, - can you see this,
and know it is yours to 19

" Cease ! " cried Zanoni, fiercely. "What is all other

fate as compared to the death of terror ? What, when
the coldest sage-the most heated enthusiast- the hardiest
warrior, with his nerves of iron — have been found dead
in their beds, with straining eyeballs and horrent hair, at
the first step of the Dread Progress, - thinkest thou that
this weak woman - from whose cheek a sound at the
window, the screech of the night-owl , the sight of a drop
of blood on a man's sword, would start the color - could
brave one glance of- Away ! -the very thought of
such sights for her makes even myself a coward ! "
" When you told her you loved her when you clasped
her to your breast, you renounced all power to foresee her
future lot, or protect her from harm. Henceforth to her

you are human, and human only. How know you , then,
to what you may be tempted ! —how know you what her
curiosity may learn and her courage brave ? But enough
of this you are bent on your pursuit ? "
"The fiat has gone forth. "
"And to-morrow ? "
268 ZANONI.

'To-morrow, at this hour, our bark will be bounding

over yonder ocean, and the weight of ages will have fallen.
from my heart ! I compassionate thee, O foolish sage,-
thou hast given up thy youth ! "

CHAPTER XVII .

ALCH. Thou always speakest riddles. Tell meif thou art that
fountain of which Bernard Lord Trevizan writ ?
MERC. I am not that fountain, but I am the water. The fountain
compasseth me about.
SANDIVOGIUS, New Light of Alchemy.

THE Prince di was not a man whom Naples could

suppose to be addicted to superstitions fancies. Still, in
the south of Italy, there was then, and there still lingers,
a certain spirit of credulity, which may, ever and anon , be
visible amidst the boldest dogmas of their philosophers
and skeptics. In his childhood, the Prince had learned.
strange tales of the ambition, the genius, and the career.
of his grandsire, - and secretly, perhaps influenced by
ancestral example, in earlier youth he himself had followed
science, not only through her legitimate course, but her
antiquated and erratic windings. I have, indeed, been
shown in Naples a little volume, blazoned with the arms
of the Visconti, and ascribed to the nobleman I refer to,
which treats of alchemy in a spirit half mocking and half
reverential.
Pleasure soon distracted him from such speculations, and
 ZANONI. 269

his talents, which were unquestionably great, were wholly

perverted to extravagant intrigues, or to the embellish-
ment of a gorgeous ostentation with something of a classic
grace. His immense wealth, his imperious pride, his
unscrupulous and daring character, made him an object
of no inconsiderable fear to a feeble and timid court ; and
the ministers of the indolent government willingly connived
at excesses which allured him at least from ambition. The

strange visit, and yet more strange departure, of Mejnour,

filled the breast of the Neapolitan with awe and wonder,
against which all the haughty arrogance and learned
skepticism of his maturer manhood combated in vain.
The apparition of Mejnour served , indeed , to invest Za-
noni with a character in which the Prince had not hitherto
regarded him . He felt a strange alarm at the rival he
had braved at the foe he had provoked . When, a little
before his banquet, he had resumed his self-possession , it
was with a fell and gloomy resolution that he brooded
over the perfidious schemes he had previously formed.
He felt as if the death of the mysterious Zanoni were
necessary for the preservation of his own life ; and if at
an earlier period of their rivalry he had determined on
the fate of Zanoni, the warnings of Mejnour only served
to confirm his resolve.

" We will try if his magic can invent an antidote to

the bane, " said he, half aloud, and with a stern smile, as
he summoned Mascari to his presence. The poison which
the Prince, with his own hands, mixed into the wine
intended for his guest, was compounded from materials,
23 *
270 ZANONI.

the secret of which had been one of the proudest heir-

looms of that able and evil race, which gave to Italy her
wisest and guiltiest tyrants. Its operation was quick, yet
not sudden - it produced no pain - it left on the form no
grim convulsion, on the skin no purpling spot, to arouse
suspicion,- you might have cut and carved every mem-
brane and fibre of the corpse, but the sharpest eyes of the
leech would not have detected the presence of the subtle
life-queller. For twelve hours the victim felt nothing,
save a joyous and elated exhilaration of the blood ; a
delicious languor followed, the sure forerunner of apo-
plexy. No lancet then could save ! Apoplexy had run
much in the families of the enemies of the Visconti !
The hour of the feast arrived - the guests assembled.
There were the flower of the Neapolitan seignorie, the
descendants of the Norman, the Teuton, the Goth ; for
Naples had then a nobility, but derived it from the North,
which has indeed been the Nutrix Leonum, the nurse of
the lion-hearted chivalry of the world.
Last of the guests came Zanoni ; and the crowd gave
way as the dazzling foreigner moved along to the lord of
the palace. The Prince greeted him with a meaning
smile, to which Zanoni answered by a whisper- " He
who plays with loaded dice does not always win . "
The Prince bit his lip, and Zanoni, passing on, seemed
deep in conversation with the fawning Mascari.
" Who is the Prince's heir ? " asked the guest
"A distant relation on the mother's side ; with his
Excellency dies the male line. "
 ZANONI. 271

" Is the heir present at our host's banquet ? "

" No : they are not friends. "
"No matter : he will be here to-morrow !"
Mascari stared in surprise ; but the signal for the
banquet was given , and the guests were marshalled to
the board. As was the custom then, the feast took place
not long after mid-day. It was a long oval hall, the
whole of one side opening by a marble colonnade upon
a court or garden, in which the eye rested gratefully upon
cool fountains and statues of whitest marble, half- sheltered
by orange-trees . Every art that luxury could invent to
give freshness and coolness to the languid and breezeless
heat of the day without (a day on which the breath of
the sirocco was abroad ) had been called into existence .
Artificial currents of air through invisible tubes, silken
blinds waving to and fro , as if to cheat the senses into
the belief of an April wind, and miniature jets d'eau in
each corner of the apartment, gave to the Italians the
same sense of exhilaration and comfort ( if I may use the
word) which the well-drawn curtains and the blazing
hearth afford to the children of colder climes.
The conversation was somewhat more lively and intel-
lectual than is common amongst the languid pleasure-
hunters of the South ; for the Prince, himself accomplished ,
songht his acquaintance not only amongst the beaux
esprits of his own country, but amongst the gay foreigners
who adorned and relieved the monotony of the Neapolitan
circles. There were present two or three of the brilliant
Frenchmen of the old régime , who had already emigrated
272 ZANONI.

from the advancing revolution ; and their peculiar tura

of thought and wit was well calculated for the meridian
of a society that made the Dolce far niente at once its
philosophy and its faith. The Prince, however, was more
silent than usual ; and when he sought to rouse himself,
his spirits were forced and exaggerated . To the manners
of his host, those of Zanoni afforded a striking contrast.
The bearing of this singular person was at all times char-
acterized by a calm and polished ease, which was attributed
by the courtiers to the long habit of society. He could
scarcely be called gay : yet few persons more tended to
animate the general spirits of a convivial circle. He
seemed, by a kind of intuition, to elicit from each com-
panion the qualities in which he most excelled ; and if
occasionally a certain tone of latent mockery characterized
his remarks upon the topics on which the conversation
fell, it appeared to men who took nothing in earnest to be
the language both of wit and wisdom. To the Frenchmen,
in particular, there was something startling in his intimate
knowledge of the minutest events in their own capital
and country, and his profound penetration (evinced but
in epigrams and sarcasms) into the eminent characters
who were then playing a part upon the great stage of
Continental intrigue . It was while this conversation grew
animated, and the feast was at its height, that Glyndon
arrived at the palace. The porter, perceiving by his dress
that he was not one of the invited guests, told him that
his Excellency was engaged, and on no account could be
disturbed ; and Glyndon then, for the first time, became
 ZANONI . 273

aware how strange and embarrassing was the duty he had

taken on himself. To force an entrance into the banquet-
hall of a great and powerful noble, surrounded by the
rank of Naples, and to arraign him for what to his boon
companions would appear but an act of gallantry, was
an exploit that could not fail to be at once ludicrous and
impotent. He mused a moment ; and slipping a piece of
gold into the porter's hand , said that he was commissioned
to seek the Signor Zanoni upon an errand of life and
death ; and easily won his way across the court, and into
He passed up the broad staircase,
the interior building .
and the voices and merriment of the revellers smote his
ear at a distance. At the entrance of the reception -rooms
he found a page, whom he despatched with a message to
Zanoni. The page did the errand ; and Zanoni, on hearing
the whispered name of Glyndon , turned to his host.
" Pardon me, my lord ; an English friend of mine, the
Signor Glyndon (not unknown by name to your Excellency)
waits without -- -the business must indeed be urgent on
which he has sought me in such an hour. You will for-
give my momentary absence. "
6
Nay, Signor, " answered the Prince , courteously, but
with a sinister smile on his countenance, " would it not
be better for your friend to join us ? An Englishman is
welcome everywhere ; and even were he a Dutchman , your
friendship would invest his presence with attraction . Pray
his attendance, we would not spare you even for a
moment. "
Zanoni bowed . the page was despatched with all
ន
 274 ZANONI .

flattering messages to Glyndon.-a seat next to Zanoni

was placed for him, and the young Englishman entered.
" You are most welcome, sir. I trust your business to
our illustrious guest is ofgood omen and pleasant import.
If you bring evil news, defer it, I pray you. "
Glyndon's brow was sullen ; and he was about to startle
the guests by his reply, when Zanoni, touching his arm
significantly, whispered in English " I know why you
have sought me. Be silent, and witness what ensues. "
" You know then that Viola, whom you boasted you
99
had the power to save from danger
" In this house ! -yes. I know also that Murder sits at
the right hand of our host. But his fate is now separated
from hers for ever ; and the mirror which glasses it to my
eye is clear through the streams of blood. Be still, and
learn the fate that awaits the wicked !"
"(
My lord," said Zanoni, speaking aloud, " the Signor
Glyndon has indeed brought me tidings not wholly unex-
pected . I am compelled to leave Naples - an additional
motive to make the most of the present hour. "
"And what, if I may venture to ask, may be the cause
that brings such affliction on the fair dames of Naples ?"
" It is the approaching death of one who honored me
with most loyal friendship," replied Zanoni, gravely.
" Let us not speak of it ; grief cannot put back the dial.
As we supply by new flowers those that fade in our vases,
so it is the secret of worldly wisdom to replace by fresh
friendships those that fade from our path. "
66 6 Not to
" True philosophy !" exclaimed the Prince.
 ZANONI . 275

admire,' was the Roman's maxim ; ' Never to mourn ,' is

mine. There is nothing in life to grieve for, save, indeed ,
Signor Zanoni, when some young beauty on whom we have
set our hearts, slips from our grasp. In such a moment
we have need of all our wisdom , not to succumb to des-
pair, and shake hands with death . What say you, Signor ?
You smile ! Such never could be your lot. Pledge me
in a sentiment - Long life to the fortunate lover - a
quick release to the baffled suitor ! ' "
" I pledge you, " said Zanoni ; and as the fatal wine
was poured into his glass, he repeated , fixing his eyes on
the Prince, " I pledge you even in this wine ! "
He lifted the glass to his lips. The Prince seemed
ghastly pale, while the gaze of his guest bent upon him,
with an intent and stern brightness, beneath which the
conscience-stricken host cowered and quailed . Not till
he had drained the draught, and replaced the glass upon
the board, did Zanoni turn his eyes from the Prince ; and
he then said, " Your wine has been kept too long ; it has
lost its virtues. It might disagree with many, but do not
fear ; it will not harm me, Prince. Signor Mascari, you
are a judge of the grape ; will you favor us with your
opinion ? "
"Nay," answered Mascari, with well-affected com-
posure, " I like not the wines of Cyprus ; they are heating.
Perhaps Signor Glyndon may not have the same distaste ?
The English are said to love their potations warm and
pungent. "
" Do you wish my friend also to taste the wine, Prince ? "
 276 ZANONI .

said Zanoni. " Recollect, all cannot drink it with the

same impunity as myself. "
" No," said the Prince, hastily ; "if you do not recom-
mend the wine, Heaven forbid that we should constrain
our guests ! My Lord Duke," turning to one of the
Frenchmen, " yours is the true soil of Bacchus. What
think you of this cask from Burgundy ? Has it borne
the journey ?"
"Ah," said Zanoni, " let us change both the wine and
the theme."
With that, Zanoni grew yet more animated and brilliant.
Never did wit more sparkling, airy, exhilarating, flash
from the lips of reveller. His spirits fascinated all present
-even the Prince himself, even Glyndon-with a strange
and wild contagion. The former, indeed, whom the words
and gaze of Zanoni, when he drained the poison, had
filled with fearful misgivings, now hailed in the brilliant
eloquence of his wit, a certain sign of the operation of
the bane. The wine circulated fast ; but none seemed
conscious of its effects. One by one the rest of the party
fell into a charmed and spell-bound silence, as Zanoni
continued to pour forth sally upon sally, tale upon tale.
They hung on his words, they almost held their breath
to listen. Yet, how bitter was his mirth ! -how full of
contempt for the triflers present, and for the trifles which
made their life !
Night came on ; the room grew dim, and the feast had
lasted several hours longer than was the customary dura-
tion of similar entertainments at that day. Still the guests
 ZANONI . 277

stirred not, and still Zanoni continued , with glittering

eye and mocking lip, to lavish his stores of intellect and
anecdote ; when suddenly the moon rose, and shed its
rays over the flowers and fountains in the court without,
leaving the room itself half in shadow and half tinged by
a quiet and ghostly light.
It was then that Zanoni rose. "Well, gentlemen,"
said he, " we have not yet wearied our host, I hope ; and
his garden offers a new temptation to protract our stay.
Have you no musicians among your train, Prince, that
might regale our ears while we inhale the fragrance of
your orange-trees ? ”
"An excellent thought ! " said the Prince. " Mascari,
see to the music. "
The party rose simultaneously to adjourn to the garden ;
and then, for the first time , the effect of the wine they had
drunk seemed to make itself felt.
With flushed cheeks and unsteady steps they came into
the open air, which tended yet more to stimulate that
glowing fever of the grape. As if to make up for the
silence with which the guests had hitherto listened to
Zanoni, every tongue was now loosened - every man
talked , no man listened . There was something wild and
fearful in the contrast between the calm beauty of the
night and scene, and the hubbub and clamor of these
disorderly roysters. One of the Frenchmen, in especial,
the young Duc de R a nobleman of the highest
rank, and of all the quick, vivacious, and irascible tem-
perament of his countrymen, was particularly noisy and
I. - 24
278 ZANONI .

excited. And as circumstances, the remembrance of which

is still preserved among certain circles of Naples, rendered
it afterwards necessary that the Duc should himself give
evidence of what occurred , I will here translate the short
account he drew up, and which was kindly submitted to
me some few years ago by my accomplished and lively
friend, Il Cavaliere di B.

" I never remember, " writes the Duc, "to have felt my
spirits so excited as on that evening ; we were like so
many boys released from school, jostling each other as we
reeled or ran down the flight of seven or eight stairs that
led from the colonnade into the garden,- some laughing,
some whooping, some scolding, some babbling. The wine
had brought out, as it were, each man's inmost character.
Some were loud and quarrelsome, others sentimental and
whining ; some whom we had hitherto thought dull, most
mirthful ; some whom we had ever regarded as discreet
and taciturn, most garrulous and uproarious. I remember
that in the midst of our clamorous gaiety, my eye fell
upon the cavalier Signor Zanoni, whose conversation had
so enchanted us all ; and I felt a certain chill come over
me to perceive that he wore the same calm and unsympa-
thizing smile upon his countenance which had characterized
it in his singular and curious stories of the court of Louis
XIV. I felt, indeed , half- inclined to seek a quarrel with
one whose composure was almost an insult to our disorder.
Nor was such an effect of this irritating and mocking
tranquillity confined to myself alone. Several of the party
 ZANONI . 279

have told me since, that, on looking at Zanoni , they felt

their blood yet more heated , and gaiety change to resent-
ment. There seemed in his icy smile a very charm to
wound vanity and provoke rage. It was at this moment
that the Prince came up to me, and, passing his arm into
mine, led me a little apart from the rest. He had certainly
indulged in the same excess as ourselves, but it did not
produce the same effect of noisy excitement. There was,
on the contrary, a certain cold arrogance and supercilious
scorn in his bearing and language, which, even while affect-
ing so much caressing courtesy towards me, roused my
self-love against him. He seemed as if Zanoni had
infected him ; and in imitating the manner of his guest,
he surpassed the original. He rallied me on some court
gossip, which had honored my name by associating it with
a certain beautiful and distinguished Sicilian lady, and
affected to treat with contempt that which, had it been
true, I should have regarded as a boast. He spoke ,
indeed , as if he himself had gathered all the flowers of
Naples, and left us foreigners only the gleanings he had
scorned. At this, my natural and national gallantry was
piqued , and I retorted by some sarcasms that I should
certainly have spared had my blood been cooler. He
laughed heartily, and left me in a strange fit of resentment
and anger. Perhaps ( I must own the truth) the wine
had produced in me a wild disposition to take offence
and provoke quarrel. As the Prince left me, I turned ,
and saw Zanoni at my side.
" The Prince is a braggart,' said he, with the same
280 ZANONI .

smile that displeased me before. ' He would monopolize

all fortune and all love. Let us take our revenge. "
" And how ?'
" He has, at this moment, in his house the most en-
chanting singer in Naples -the celebrated Viola Pisani.
She is here, it is true, not by her own choice ; he carried
her hither by force, but he will pretend that she adores
him. Let us insist on his producing his secret treasure ,
and when she enters, the Duc de R-- can have no
doubt that his flatteries and attentions will charm the
lady, and provoke all the jealous fears of our host. It
would be a fair revenge upon his imperious self-conceit. '
" This suggestion delighted me I hastened to the
Prince. At that moment the musicians had just com-
menced ; I waved my hand, ordered the music to stop,
and addressing the Prince, who was standing in the centre
of one of the gayest groups, complained of his want of
hospitality in affording to us such poor proficients in the
art, while he reserved for his own solace the lute and
voice of the first performer in Naples. I demanded half-
laughingly, half- seriously, that he should produce the
Pisani. My demand was received with shouts of applause
by the rest. We drowned the replies of our host with
uproar, and would hear no denial. Gentlemen,' at last
said the Prince, when he could obtain an audience , ' even
were I to assent to your proposal, I could not induce the
Signora to present herself before an assemblage as riotous
as they are noble. You have too much chivalry to use
compulsion with her, though the Duc de R- forgets
himself sufficiently to administer it to me.'
 ZANONI. 281

" 1 was stung by this taunt, however well deserved .

' Prince, ' said I, ' I have for the indelicacy of compulsion
so illustrious an example, that I cannot hesitate to pursue
the path honored by your own footsteps . All Naples
knows that the Pisani despises at once your gold and your
love- that force alone could have brought her under your

roof ; and that you refuse to produce her, because you

fear her complaints, and know enough of the chivalry
your vanity sneers at to feel assured that the gentlemen
of France are not more disposed to worship beauty than
to defend it from wrong.'
"
" You speak well, sir,' said Zanoni, gravely. The
Prince dares not produce his prize !'
" The Prince remained speechless for a few moments,
as if with indignation. At last he broke out into expres-
sions the most injurious and insulting against Signor
Zanoni and myself. Zanoni replied not ; I was more
hot and hasty. The guests appeared to delight in our
dispute. None , except Mascari, whom we pushed aside
and disdained to hear, strove to conciliate ; some took
one side, some another. The issue may be well foreseen .
Swords were called for and procured . Two were offered
me by one of the party. I was about to choose one, when
Zanoni placed in my hand the other, which, from its hilt,
appeared of antiquated workmanship . At the same
moment, looking towards the Prince, he said , smilingly,
"
The Duc takes your grandsire's sword . Prince , you are
too brave a man for superstition ; you have forgot the
forfeit !' Our host seemed to me to recoil and turn pale
24 *
282 ZANONI .

at those words ; nevertheless, he returned Zanoni's smile

with a look of defiance. The next moment all was broil
and disorder. There might be some six or eight persons
engaged in a strange and confused kind of mêlée, but the
Prince and myself only sought each other. The noise
around us, the confusion of the guests, the cries of the
musicians, the clash of our own swords, only served to
stimulate our unhappy fury. We feared to be interrupted
by the attendants, and fought like madmen, without skill
or method. I thrust and parried mechanically, blind and
frantic, as if a demon had entered into me, till I saw the
Prince stretched at my feet, bathed in his blood, and
Zanoni bending over him, and whispering in his ear.
That sight cooled us all. The strife ceased , we gathered
in shame, remorse, and horror, round our ill-fated host-―
but it was too late -his eyes rolled fearfully in his head.
I have seen many men die, but never one who wore such
horror on his countenance . At last, all was over ! Zanoni
rose from the corpse, and, taking, with great composure,
the sword from my hand, said, calmly- Ye are witnesses ,
gentlemen, that the Prince brought his fate upon himself.
The last of that illustrious house has perished in a brawl. '
"I saw no more of Zanoni. I hastened to our envoy
to narrate the event, and abide the issue. I am grateful
to the Neapolitan government, and to the illustrious heir
of the unfortunate nobleman, for the lenient and generous,
yet just, interpretation put upon a misfortune, the memory
of which will afflict me to the last hour of my life.
66
(Signed) LOUIS VICTOR, DUC DE R."
 ZANONI . 283

In the above memorial, the reader will find the most

exact and minute account yet given of an event which
created the most lively sensation at Naples in that day.
Glyndon had taken no part in the affray, neither had
he participated largely in the excesses of the revel. For
his exemption from both, he was perhaps indebted to the
whispered exhortations of Zanoni. When the last rose
from the corpse, and withdrew from that scene of confusion ,
Glyndon remarked that in passing the crowd he touched
Mascari on the shoulder, and said something which the
Englishman did not overhear. Glyndon followed Zanoni
into the banquet- room , which, save where the moon-light
slept on the marble floor, was wrapt in the sad and gloomy
shadows of the advancing night.
" How could you foretell this fearful event ? He fell
not by your arm ! " said Glyndon , in a tremulous and
hollow tone.
" The general who calculates on the victory does not
fight in person , " answered Zanoni ; "let the past sleep
with the dead . Meet me at midnight by the sea- shore,
half a mile to the left of your hotel. You will know the
spot by a rude pillar - the only one near - to which a
broken chain is attached . There and then, if thou wouldst
learn our lore, thou shalt find the master. Go ; - I have

business here yet. Remember, Viola is still in the house

of the dead man ! "
Here Mascari approached, and Zanoni, turning to the
Italian, and waving his hand to Glyndon, drew the former
aside. Glyndon slowly departed.
284 ZANONI .

" Mascari," said Zanoni, " your patron is no mere ;

your services will be valueless to his heir, -a sober man,
whom poverty has preserved from vice. For yourself,
thank me that I do not give you up to the executioner :
recollect the wine of Cyprus. Well, never tremble, man ;
it could not act on me, though it might re-act on others ;
in that it is a common type of crime. I forgive you ;
and if the wine should kill me, I promise you that my
ghost shall not haunt so worshipful a penitent. Enough
of this ; conduct me to the chamber of Viola Pisani . You
have no further need of her. The death of the gaoler
opens the cell of the captive. Be quick, I would be
gone."
Mascari muttered some inaudible words, bowed low,
and led the way to the chamber in which Viola was con-
fined.

CHAPTER XVIII.

MERC. Tell me, therefore, what thou seekest after, and what thou
wilt have. What dost thou desire to make ?
ALCH. The Philosopher's Stone.
SANDIVOGIUS.

IT wanted several minutes of midnight, and Glyndon

repaired to the appointed spot. The mysterious empire
which Zanoni had acquired over him, was still more sol-
emnly confirmed by the events of the last few hours ; the
sudden fate of the Prince, so deliberately foreshadowed,
and yet so seemingly accidental, brought out by causes
 ZANONI . 285

the most common -place, and yet, associated with words

the most prophetic, impressed him with the deepest senti-
ments of admiration and awe. It was as if this dark and
wondrous being could convert the most ordinary events
and the meanest instruments into the agencies of his
inscrutable will ; yet, if so, why have permitted the capture
of Viola ? Why not have prevented the crime, rather
than punish the criminal ? And did Zanoni really feel
love for Viola ? Love, and yet offer to resign her to
himself, to a rival, whom his arts could not have failed
to baffle. He no longer reverted to the belief that Zanoni
or Viola had sought to dupe him into marriage. His
fear and reverence for the former now forbade the notion
of so poor an imposture. Did he any longer love Viola
himself ? No ; when that morning he had heard of her
danger, he had , it is true, returned to the sympathies and
the fears of affection ; but with the death of the Prince
her image faded again from his heart, and he felt no
jealous pang at the thought that she had been saved by
Zanoni , - that at that moment she was perhaps beneath
his roof. Whoever has, in the course of his life, indulged
the absorbing passion of the gamester, will remember how
all other pursuits and objects vanished from his mind ;
how solely he was wrapped in the one wild delusion ; with
what a sceptre of magic power the despot-demon ruled
every feeling and every thought. Far more intense than
the passion of the gamester was the frantic, yet sublime
desire, that mastered the breast of Glyndon. He would
be the rival of Zanoni, not in human and perishable
286 ZANONI .

affections, but in preternatural and eternal lore. He

would have laid down life with content - nay rapture,
as the price of learning those solemn secrets which sepa-
rated the stranger from mankind. Enamoured of the
goddess of goddesses, he stretched forth his arms - the
wild Ixion and embraced a cloud !
The night was most lovely and serene, and the waves
scarcely rippled at his feet, as the Englishman glided on
by the cool and starry beach. At length he arrived at
the spot, and there, leaning against the broken pillar, he
beheld a man wrapped in a long mantle, and in an attitude
of profound repose. He approached, and uttered the
name of Zanoni. The figure turned, and he saw the face
of a stranger : a face not stamped by the glorious beauty
of Zanoni, but equally majestic in its aspect, and perhaps
still more impressive from the mature age and the passion-
less depth of thought that characterized the expanded
forehead, and deep-set but piercing eyes. •
" You seek Zanoni," said the stranger, " he will be
here anon ; but, perhaps, he whom you see before you,
is more connected with your destiny, and more disposed
to realize your dreams. 99 .
" Hath the earth then another Zanoni ? "
"If not, " replied the stranger, " why do you cherish
the hope and the wild faith to be yourself a Zanoni ?
Think you that none others have burned with the same
godlike dream ? Who, indeed , in his first youth - youth
when the soul is nearer to the heaven from which it sprung,

and its divine and primal longings are not all effaced by
 ZANONI. 287

the sordid passions and petty cares that are begot in time
who is there in youth that has not nourished the belief
that the universe has secrets not known to the common
herd, and panted, as the hart for the water- springs , for
the fountains that lie hid and far away amidst the broad
wilderness of trackless science ? The music ofthe fountain
·
is heard in the soul within, till the steps, deceived and
erring, rove away from its waters, and the wanderer dies
in the mighty desert. Think you that none who have
cherished the hope have found the truth ? or that the
yearning after the Ineffable Knowledge was given to us
utterly in vain ? No ! Every desire in human hearts is
but a glimpse of things that exist, alike distant and divine.
No in the world there have been, from age to age, some
brighter and happier spirits who have attained to the air
in which the beings above mankind move and breathe .
Zanoni, great though he be, stands not alone. He has
had his predecessors, and long lines of successors may be
yet to come. "
"And will you tell me, " said Glyndon, " that in your-
self I behold one of that mighty few over whom Zanoni
has no superiority in power and wisdom ? "
" In me," answered the stranger, " you see one from
whom Zanoni himself learned some of his loftiest secrets.
On these shores, on this spot, have I stood in ages that
your chroniclers but feebly reach. The Phoenician, the
Greek, the Oscan, the Roman , the Lombard , I have seen
them all ! leaves gay and glittering on the trunk of the
universal life, scattered in due season and again renewed ;
288 ZANONI .

till indeed, the same race that gave its glory to the ancient
world bestowed a second youth upon the new. For the
pure Greek, the Hellenes, whose origin has bewildered
your dreaming scholars, were of the same great family as
the Norman tribe, born to be the lords of the universe,
and in no land on the earth destined to become the hewers
of wood. Even the dim traditions of the learned, which
bring the sons of Hellas from the vast and undetermined
territories of northern Thrace, to be the victors of the
pastoral Pelasgi, and the founders of the line of demi-
gods ; - which assign to a population bronzed beneath
the suns of the west, the blue-eyed Minerva and the yellow-
haired Achilles (physical characteristics of the north) ; -
which introduce amongst a pastoral people, warlike aris-
tocracies, and limited monarchies, the feudalism of the
classic time ; even these might serve you to trace back
the primeval settlements of the Hellenes to the same region
whence, in latter times, the Norman warriors broke on the
dull and savage hordes of the Celt, and became the Greeks
of the Christian world. But this interests you not, and
you are wise in your indifference. Not in the knowledge
of things without, but in the perfection of the soul within,
lies the empire of man aspiring to be more than man. "
"And what books contain that science ? - from what
laboratory is it wrought ? "
" Nature supplies the materials ; they are around you
in your daily walks. In the herbs that the beast devours
and the chemist disdains to cull ; in the elements, from
which matter in its meanest and its mightiest shapes is
 ZANONI . 289

deduced ; in the wide bosom of the air ; in the black

abysses ofthe earth ; everywhere are given to mortals the
resources and libraries of immortal lore. But as the
simplest problems in the simplest of all studies are obscure
to one who braces not his mind to their comprehension,
as the rower in yonder vessel cannot tell you why two
circles can touch each other only in one point ; so , though
all earth were carved over and inscribed with the letters
of diviner knowledge, the characters would be valueless to
him who does not pause to inquire the language, and
meditate the truth. Young man, if thy imagination is
vivid, if thy heart is daring, if thy curiosity is insatiate,
I will accept thee as my pupil. But the first lessons are
stern and dread."

" If thou hast mastered them, why not I ? " answered

Glyndon, boldly. " I have felt from my boyhood that
strange mysteries were reserved for my career ; and from
the proudest ends of ordinary ambition , I have carried my
gaze into the cloud and darkness that stretch beyond .
The instant I beheld Zanoni, I felt as if I had discovered
the guide and the tutor for which my youth had idly
languished and vainly burned . ”
"And to me his duty is transferred ," replied the stranger.
" Yonder lies, anchored in the bay, the vessel in which
Zanoni seeks a fairer home ; a little while and the breeze
will rise, the sail will swell, and the stranger will have
passed, like a wind, away. Still, like the wind , he leaves
in thy heart the seeds that may bear the blossoms and
the fruit. Zanoni hath performed his task, he is wanted
I.- 25
290 ZANONI .

no more ; the perfecter of his work is at thy side.- He

comes ! hear the dash of the oar. You will have your
choice submitted to you. According as you decide, we
shall meet again. " With these words the stranger moved
slowly away, and disappeared beneath the shadow of the
cliffs. A boat glided rapidly across the waters ; it
touched land ; a man leapt on shore, and Glyndon recog-
nized Zanoni.
" I give thee, Glyndon - I give thee no more the option
of happy love and serene enjoyment. That hour is past,
and fate has linked the hand that might have been thine
own, to mine. But I have ample gifts to bestow upon
thee, if thou wilt abandon the hope that gnaws thy heart,
and the realization of which, even I have not the power
to foresee. Be thine ambition human, and I can gratify
it to the full. Men desire four things in life - love,
wealth, fame, power. The first I cannot give thee, the
rest are at my disposal. Select which of them thou wilt,
and let us part in peace. "
" Such are not the gifts I covet. I choose knowledge ;
that knowledge must be thine own. For this, and for
this alone, I surrendered the love of Viola ; this and this
alone, must be my recompense."
" I cannot gainsay thee, though I can warn. The
desire to learn does not always contain the faculty to
acquire. I can give thee, it is true, the teacher - the
rest must depend on thee. Be wise in time, and take that
which I can assure to thee."
"Answer me but these questions, and according to your
 ZANONI . 291

answer I will decide. Is it in the power of man to attain

intercourse with the beings of other worlds ? Is it in the
power of man to influence the elements, and to insure life
against the sword and against disease ? "
"All this may be possible, " answered Zanoni, evasively,
"to the few. But for one who attains such secrets, millions
may perish in the attempt. "
" One question more. Thou ."
" Beware ! Of myself, as I have said before, I render
no account. "

" Well, then, the stranger I have met this night, are
his boasts to be believed ? Is he in truth one of the
chosen seers whom you allow to have mastered the mys-
teries I yearn to fathom ?"
" Rash man," said Zanoni, in a tone of compassion, " thy
crisis is past, and thy choice made ! I can only bid thee
be bold and prosper ; yes, I resign thee to a master who
has the power and the will to open to thee the gates of
an awful world. Thy weal or woe are as nought in the
eyes of his relentless wisdom. I would bid him spare thee,
""
but he will heed me not. Mejnour, receive thy pupil !
Glyndon turned, and his heart beat when he perceived that
the stranger, whose footsteps he had not heard upon the
pebbles, whose approach he had not beheld in the moon-
light, was once more by his side !
" Farewell," resumed Zanoni ; " thy trial commences.
When next we meet, thou wilt be the victim or the victor. "
Glyndon's eyes followed the receding form of the mys.
terious stranger. He saw him enter the boat, and he then
 292 ZANONI .

for the first time noticed that besides the rowers there

was a female, who stood up as Zanoni gained the boat

Even at the distance, he recognized the once adored form
of Viola. She waved her hand to him, and across the
still and shining air came her voice, mournfully and sweetly
in her mother's tongue-" Farewell, Clarence - I forgive
theefarewell, farewell ! "
He strove to answer, but the voice touched a chord at
his heart, and the words failed him. Viola was then lost
for ever ; gone with this dread stranger ; darkness was
round her lot ! And he himself had decided her fate and
his own ! The boat bounded on, the soft waves flashed
and sparkled beneath the oars, and it was along one sap-
phire track of moonlight that the frail vessel bore away
the lovers. Farther, and farther from his gaze, sped the
boat, till at last the speck, scarcely visible, touched the
side of the ship that lay lifeless in the glorious bay. At
that instant, as if by magic, up sprang, with a glad mur-
mur, the playful and freshening wind ; and Glyndon turned
to Mejnour and broke the silence.
" Tell me ( if thou canst read the future), tell me that
her lot will be fair, and that her choice at least is wise ? "
""
'My pupil ! " answered Mejnour, in a voice the calm-
ness of which well accorded with the chilling wofus, "thy
first task must be to withdraw all thought, feeling, sym-
pathy from others. The elementary stage of knowledge
is to make self, and self alone, thy study and thy world.
Thou hast decided thine own career ; thou hast renounced
love ; thou hast rejected wealth, fame, and the vulgar
 ZANONI . 293

pomps of power. What then are all mankind to thee ?

To perfect thy faculties, and concentrate thy emotions, is
henceforth thy only aim ! "
"And will happiness be the end ? "
" If happiness exist," answered Mejnour, " it must be
centered in a SELF to which all passion is unknown. But
happiness is the last state of being ; and as yet thou art
on the threshold of the first. "
As Mejnour spoke, the distant vessel spread its sails to
the wind, and moved slowly along the deep. Glyndon
sighed, and the pupil and the master retraced their steps
towards the city.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME

25 *
J.Vare.Buckle. 17

J. M.Badley
Mass187
31783 PR4900
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Pt. 1 ..

RUTGERS THE STATE UNIVERSITY

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