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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 forever 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 enamoured 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 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 clew 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

honour of thee; but he is an obstinate fellow; this;and he

would have it so。〃





CHAPTER 1。IV。



E cosi i pigri e timidi desiri

Sprona。

〃Gerusal。 Lib。;〃 cant。 iv。 lxxxviii。



(And thus the slow and timid passions urged。)



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 practice; 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 brilliant 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 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 recognised 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?〃



〃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 resistan

anxious; sickening feeling of fear and hope;impelled her to the

question; 〃I shall see you again; shall I not; at San Carlo?〃



〃Not; at least; for some time。  I leave Naples to…day。〃



〃Indeed!〃 and Viola's heart sank 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 neighbour's garden。  Look how

it grows up; crooked and distorted。  Some wind scattered the germ

from which it sprang; 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

laboured and worked; stem and branches; towards the clear skies

at last。  What has preserved it through each disfavour 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 labour 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


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