zanoni-第40章
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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 airan air which seems a musicupward 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。
。。。
〃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 command 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 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 worthless
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 me thus? Give me
backgive me back the life I 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 confidence in ourselves; and a serene
repose as to our future; that it is the moonlight 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;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 3。VI。
Tu vegga o per violenzia o per inganno
Patire o disonore o mortal danno。
〃Orlando Furioso;〃 Cant。 xlii。 i。
(Thou art about; either through violence or artifice; to suffer
either dishonour or mortal loss。)
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!
In this cabinet sat a man of about three…and…forty;dark…eyed;
sallow; with short; prominent features; a massive 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 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?〃
〃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 impertinent。 Mascari; Signor Zanoni hath not yet
honoured our poor house with his presence。 He is a distinguished
stranger;we must give a banquet in his honour。〃
〃Ah; and the Cyprus wine! The cypress 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 bewitched you。〃
〃Mascari;〃 said the prince; with a haughty smile; 〃through these
veins rolls the blood of the old Viscontiof 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 ambition and their spirit are undecayed