zanoni-第12章

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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　tessellated　floors；　here；



〃Mighty　in　the　heaven；　a　second　heaven；〃



hung　the　vault　of　his　ivory　roofs；　here；　arch　upon　arch；　pillar

on　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　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；　no　associates；　no　companions；

except　books　and　instruments　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　Science；　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　Phaedo。　　May　Homer　live　with　all

men　forever！



They　converse；　they　confess　to　each　other；　they　conjure　up　the

past；　and　repeople　it；　but　note　how　differently　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　tangible；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；



（〃An　des　Jahrhunderts　Neige；

Der　reifste　Sohn　der　Zeit。〃

〃Die　Kunstler。〃）



stood　as　at　the　deathbed　of　the　Old　World；　and　beheld　the　New

Orb；　blood…red　amidst　cloud　and　vapour；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

contempt　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　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

commotions；　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　everlasting！



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！





CHAPTER　1。VI。



Precepteurs　ignorans　de　ce　faible　univers。Voltaire。

（Ignorant　teachers　of　this　weak　world。）



Nous　etions　a　table　chez　un　de　nos　confreres　a　l'Academie；

Grand　Seigneur　et　homme　d'esprit。La　Harpe。

（We　supped　with　one　of　our　confreres　of　the　Academy；a　great

nobleman　and　wit。）



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　personage　distinguished　alike　by

noble　birth　and　liberal　accomplishments。　　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　delices　de　la　Nation。〃　　（The　idol

and　delight　of　the　nation　（so…called　by　his　historian；

Gaillard）。）　　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　expected；　was　literary

and　intellectual；　enlivened　by　graceful　pleasantry。　　Many　of　the

ladies　of　that　ancient　and　proud　noblessefor　the　noblesse　yet

existed；　though　its　hours　were　already　numberedadded　to　the

charm　of　the　society；　and　theirs　were　the　boldest　criticisms；　and

often　the　most　liberal　sentiments。



Vain　labour　for　mevain　labour　almost　for　the　grave　English

languageto　do　justice　to　the　sparkling　paradoxes　that　flew　from

lip　to　lip。　　The　favourite　theme　was　the　superiority　of　the

moderns　to　the　ancients。　　Condorcet　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　champagne　danced

to　his　glass；　〃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　its　final

completion；a　pas　de　geant；　as　Montesquieu　said　of　his　own

immortal　work。〃



Then　there　rushed　from　allwit　and　noble；　courtier　and

republicana　confused　chorus；　harmonious　only　in　its

anticipation　of　the　brill