Zanoni — Edward Bulwer-Lytton
“But how?—but where?” stammered Mervale, in great confusion and surprise. “JT found your friend stretched on the ground, overpowered 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; goodnight, and pleasant dreams.” “But, my preserver, you will not leave us?” said Glyndon, 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 midnight I will be with you.” “Incomprehensible being!” replied the Englishman, “T 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
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desire of a preternatural 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.” “T 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 happiness.” “But they are better than happiness. Say!—if I marry Viola, wilt thou be my master,— my guide? Say this, and I am resolved.” “Tt were impossible.” “Then I renounce her? I renounce love. I renounce happiness. Welcome solitude, —welcome despair; if they are the entrances to thy dark and sublime secret.” “T will not take thy answer now. Before the last hour of night thou shalt give it in one word, — ay or no! Farewell 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 forever 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.
rn ¥ (AT TRITR GDMr COLUSA COUNTY Fr
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CHAPTER XII.
Was ist ’s Das hinter diesem Schleier sich verbirgt ?1 Das Verschleierte Bild zu Sars.
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 recollection of that restless, lively race from which the population 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 gayety of day was hushed and breathless. Here 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. 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.
1 What is it that conceals itself behind this veil ?
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“But how?—but where?” stammered Mervale, in great confusion and surprise. “JT found your friend stretched on the ground, overpowered 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; goodnight, and pleasant dreams.” “But, my preserver, you will not leave us?” said Glyndon, 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 midnight I will be with you.” “Incomprehensible being!” replied the Englishman, “T 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
p. 201
desire of a preternatural knowledge and unearthly power. I make my choice. In my ancestor’s name, I adjure and remind you of your pledge. Instruct me; school me; make me your; and I surrender to you at once, and without a murmur, the woman whom, till I saw you, I would have defied a world to obtain.” “T bid you 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 you have told me, that if I wed Viola, I must be contented with the common existence, — if I refuse, it is to aspire to your knowledge and your power.” “Vain man, knowledge and power are not happiness.” “But they are better than happiness. Say!—if I marry Viola, will you be my master,— my guide? Say this, and I am resolved.” “Tt were impossible.” “Then I renounce her? I renounce love. I renounce happiness. Welcome solitude, —welcome despair; if they are the entrances to your dark and sublime secret.” “T will not take your answer now. Before the last hour of night you shall give it in one word, — ay or no! Farewell 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 forever 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.
rn ¥ (AT TRITR GDMr COLUSA COUNTY Fr
p. 202
CHAPTER XII.
Was ist ’s Das hinter diesem Schleier sich verbirgt ?1 Das Verschleierte Bild zu Sars.
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 recollection of that restless, lively race from which the population 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 gayety of day was hushed and breathless. Here 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. 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.
1 What is it that conceals itself behind this veil ?
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