Zanoni — Edward Bulwer-Lytton
know that the gifts of the Being whose race is so hostile to our own are, to the common seeker, fatal and perfidious as itself. And hence, when, at the outskirts of knowledge, which in earlier ages men called Magic, they encountered the things of the hostile tribes, they believed the apparitions to be fiends, and, by fancied compacts, imagined they had signed away their souls; as if man could give for an eternity that over which he has control but while he lives! Dark, and shrouded forever from human sight, dwell the demon rebels, in their impenetrable realm; in them is no breath of the Divine One. In every human creature the Divine One breathes ; and He alone can judge His own hereafter, and allot its new career and home. Could man sell himself to the fiend, man could prejudge himself, and arrogate the disposal of eternity! But these creatures, modifications as they are of matter, and some with more than the malignity of man, may well seem, to fear and unreasoning superstition, the representatives of fiends. And from the darkest and mightiest of them I have accepted a boon, — the secret that startled Death fromm those so dear to me. Can I not trust that enough of power yet remains to me to baffle or to daunt the Phantom, if it seek to pervert the gift? Answer me, Mejnour, for in the darkness that veils me, I see only the pure eyes of the new-born ; I hear only the low beating of my heart. Answer me, thou whose wisdom is without love!
MEJNOUR TO ZANONI. Rome.
FatLen One! —I see before thee Evil and Death and Woe! Thou to have relinquished Adon-Ai for the nameless Terror, -—the heavenly stars for those fearful eyes! Thou, at the last to be the victim of the Larva of the dreary Threshold, that, in thy first novitiate, fled, withered and shrivelled, from thy kingly brow! When, at the primary grades of initiation, the pupil I took from thee on the shores of the changed Parthenopé, fell senseless and cowering before that Phantom- Darkness, I knew that his spirit was not formed to front thep. 382 worlds beyond ; for FEAR is the attraction of man to earthiest earth, and while he fears, he cannot soar, But thou, seest thou not that to love is but to fear; seest thou not that the power of which thou boastest over the malignant one is already gone? It awes, it masters thee ; it will mock thee and betray. Lose nota moment; come to me. If there can yet be sufficient sympathy between us, through my eyes shalt thou see, and perhaps guard against the perils that, shapeless yet, and looming through the shadow, marshal themselves around thee and those whom thy very love has doomed. Come from all the ties of thy fond humanity; they will but obscure thy vision! Come forth from thy fears and hopes, thy desires and passions. Come, as alone Mind can be the monarch and the seer, shining through the home it tenants, —a pure, impressionless, sublime intelligence !
p. 383
CHAPTER IV.
Plus que yous ne pensez ce moment est terrible. La Harpr, Le Comte de Warwick, Act 3, sc. 5.
For the first time since their union, Zanoni and Viola were separated, — Zanoni went to Rome on important business, “ It was,” he said, “ but fora few days;” and he went so suddenly that there was little time either for surprise or sorrow. But first parting is always more melancholy than it need be: it seems an interruption to the existence which Love shares with Love; it makes the heart feel what a void life will be when the last parting shall succeed, as succeed it must, the first. But Viola had a new companion; she was enjoying that most delicious novelty which ever renews the youth and dazzles the eyes of woman. As the mistress — the wife — she leans on another; from another are reflected her happiness, her being,— as an orb that takes light from its sun. But now, in turn, as the mother, she is raised from dependence into power; it is another that leans on her, —a star has sprung into space, to which she herself has become the sun! A few days, — but they will be sweet through the sorrow! <A few days, — every hour of which seems an era to the infant, over whom bend watchful the eyes and the heart. From its waking to its sleep, from its sleep to its waking, is a revolution in Time. Every gesture to be noted, — every smile to seem a new progress into the world it hascome to bless! Zanoni has gone, — the last dash of the oar is lost, the last speck of the gondola has
1 The moment is more terrible than you think.
p. 384
know that the gifts of the Being whose race is so hostile to our own are, to the common seeker, fatal and perfidious as itself. And hence, when, at the outskirts of knowledge, which in earlier ages men called Magic, they encountered the things of the hostile tribes, they believed the apparitions to be fiends, and, by fancied compacts, imagined they had signed away their souls; as if man could give for an eternity that over which he has control but while he lives! Dark, and shrouded forever from human sight, dwell the demon rebels, in their impenetrable realm; in them is no breath of the Divine One. In every human creature the Divine One breathes ; and He alone can judge His own hereafter, and allot its new career and home. Could man sell himself to the fiend, man could prejudge himself, and arrogate the disposal of eternity! But these creatures, modifications as they are of matter, and some with more than the malignity of man, may well seem, to fear and unreasoning superstition, the representatives of fiends. And from the darkest and mightiest of them I have accepted a boon, — the secret that startled Death fromm those so dear to me. Can I not trust that enough of power yet remains to me to baffle or to daunt the Phantom, if it seek to pervert the gift? Answer me, Mejnour, for in the darkness that veils me, I see only the pure eyes of the new-born ; I hear only the low beating of my heart. Answer me, you whose wisdom is without love!
MEJNOUR TO ZANONI. Rome.
FatLen One! —I see before you Evil and Death and Woe! You to have relinquished Adon-Ai for the nameless Terror, -—the heavenly stars for those fearful eyes! You, at the last to be the victim of the Larva of the dreary Threshold, that, in your first novitiate, fled, withered and shrivelled, from your kingly brow! When, at the primary grades of initiation, the pupil I took from you on the shores of the changed Parthenopé, fell senseless and cowering before that Phantom- Darkness, I knew that his spirit was not formed to front thep. 382 worlds beyond ; for FEAR is the attraction of man to earthiest earth, and while he fears, he cannot soar, But you, seest you not that to love is but to fear; seest you not that the power of which you boastest over the malignant one is already gone? It awes, it masters you ; it will mock you and betray. Lose nota moment; come to me. If there can yet be sufficient sympathy between us, through my eyes shall you see, and perhaps guard against the perils that, shapeless yet, and looming through the shadow, marshal themselves around you and those whom your very love has doomed. Come from all the ties of your fond humanity; they will but obscure your vision! Come forth from your fears and hopes, your desires and passions. Come, as alone Mind can be the monarch and the seer, shining through the home it tenants, —a pure, impressionless, sublime intelligence !
p. 383
CHAPTER IV.
Plus que yous ne pensez ce moment est terrible. La Harpr, Le Comte de Warwick, Act 3, sc. 5.
For the first time since their union, Zanoni and Viola were separated, — Zanoni went to Rome on important business, “ It was,” he said, “ but fora few days;” and he went so suddenly that there was little time either for surprise or sorrow. But first parting is always more melancholy than it need be: it seems an interruption to the existence which Love shares with Love; it makes the heart feel what a void life will be when the last parting shall succeed, as succeed it must, the first. But Viola had a new companion; she was enjoying that most delicious novelty which ever renews the youth and dazzles the eyes of woman. As the mistress — the wife — she leans on another; from another are reflected her happiness, her being,— as an orb that takes light from its sun. But now, in turn, as the mother, she is raised from dependence into power; it is another that leans on her, —a star has sprung into space, to which she herself has become the sun! A few days, — but they will be sweet through the sorrow! <A few days, — every hour of which seems an era to the infant, over whom bend watchful the eyes and the heart. From its waking to its sleep, from its sleep to its waking, is a revolution in Time. Every gesture to be noted, — every smile to seem a new progress into the world it hascome to bless! Zanoni has gone, — the last dash of the oar is lost, the last speck of the gondola has
1 The moment is more terrible than you think.
p. 384
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