wayward，notintemper，forthatwassweetanddocile；butinhermoods，which，asIbeforehinted，changedfromsadtogayandgaytosadwithoutanapparentcause。Ifcausetherewere，itmustbetracedtotheearlyandmysteriousinfluencesIhavereferredto，whenseekingtoexplaintheeffectproducedonherimaginationbythoserestlessstreamsofsoundthatconstantlyplayedaroundit；foritisnoticeablethattothosewhoaremuchalivetotheeffectsofmusic，airsandtunesoftencomeback，inthecommonestpursuitsoflife，tovex，asitwere，andhauntthem。Themusic，onceadmittedtothesoul，becomesalsoasortofspirit，andneverdies。Itwandersperturbedlythroughthehallsandgalleriesofthememory，andisoftenheardagain，distinctandlivingaswhenitfirstdisplacedthewaveletsoftheair。Nowattimes，then，thesephantomsofsoundfloatedbackuponherfancy；ifgay，tocallasmilefromeverydimple；
　　ifmournful，tothrowashadeuponherbrow，——tomakeherceasefromherchildishmirth，andsitapartandmuse。
　　Rightly，then，inatypicalsense，mightthisfaircreature，soairyinhershape，soharmoniousinherbeauty，sounfamiliarinherwaysandthoughts，——rightlymightshebecalledadaughter，lessofthemusicianthanthemusic，abeingforwhomyoucouldimaginethatsomefatewasreserved，lessofactuallifethantheromancewhich，toeyesthatcansee，andheartsthatcanfeel，glideseveralongWITHtheactuallife，streambystream，totheDarkOcean。
　　AndthereforeitseemednotstrangethatViolaherself，eveninchildhood，andyetmoreasshebloomedintothesweetseriousnessofvirginyouth，shouldfancyherlifeordainedforalot，whetherofblissorwoe，thatshouldaccordwiththeromanceandreveriewhichmadetheatmosphereshebreathed。FrequentlyshewouldclimbthroughthethicketsthatclothedtheneighbouringgrottoofPosilipo，——themightyworkoftheoldCimmerians，——and，seatedbythehauntedTombofVirgil，indulgethosevisions，thesubtlevaguenessofwhichnopoetrycanrenderpalpableanddefined；forthePoetthatsurpassesallwhoeversang，istheheartofdreamingyouth!Frequentlythere，too，besidethethresholdoverwhichthevine-leavesclung，andfacingthatdark-blue，wavelesssea，shewouldsitintheautumnnoonorsummertwilight，andbuildhercastlesintheair。Whodothnotdothesame，——notinyouthalone，butwiththedimmedhopesofage!Itisman'sprerogativetodream，thecommonroyaltyofpeasantandofking。Butthoseday-dreamsofhersweremorehabitual，distinct，andsolemnthanthegreaterpartofusindulge。TheyseemedliketheOramaoftheGreeks，——prophetswhilephantasma。
　　CHAPTER1。II。
　　Fustupor，fuvaghezza，fudiletto!
　　"Gerusal。Lib。，"cant。ii。xxi。
　　"Desireitwas，'twaswonder，'twasdelight。"
　　Wiffen'sTranslation。
　　Nowatlasttheeducationisaccomplished!Violaisnearlysixteen。TheCardinaldeclaresthatthetimeiscomewhenthenewnamemustbeinscribedintheLibrod'Oro，——theGoldenBooksetaparttothechildrenofArtandSong。Yes，butinwhatcharacter？——towhosegeniusisshetogiveembodimentandform？
　　Ah，thereisthesecret!RumoursgoabroadthattheinexhaustiblePaisiello，charmedwithherperformanceofhis"Nelcorpiunonmesento，"andhis"IosonLindoro，"willproducesomenewmasterpiecetointroducethedebutante。Othersinsistuponitthatherforteisthecomic，andthatCimarosaishardatworkatanother"MatrimoniaSegreto。"Butinthemeanwhilethereisacheckinthediplomacysomewhere。TheCardinalisobservedtobeoutofhumour。Hehassaidpublicly，——andthewordsareportentous，——"Thesillygirlisasmadasherfather；whatsheasksispreposterous!"Conferencefollowsconference；theCardinaltalkstothepoorchildverysolemnlyinhiscloset，——
　　allinvain。Naplesisdistractedwithcuriosityandconjecture。
　　Thelectureendsinaquarrel，andViolacomeshomesullenandpouting:shewillnotact，——shehasrenouncedtheengagement。
　　Pisani，tooinexperiencedtobeawareofallthedangersofthestage，hadbeenpleasedatthenotionthatone，atleast，ofhisnamewouldaddcelebritytohisart。Thegirl'sperversenessdispleasedhim。However，hesaidnothing，——heneverscoldedinwords，buthetookupthefaithfulbarbiton。Oh，faithfulbarbiton，howhorriblythoudidstscold!Itscreeched，itgabbled，itmoaned，itgrowled。AndViola'seyesfilledwithtears，forsheunderstoodthatlanguage。Shestoletohermother，andwhisperedinherear；andwhenPisaniturnedfromhisemployment，lo!bothmotheranddaughterwereweeping。Helookedatthemwithawonderingstare；andthen，asifhefelthehadbeenharsh，heflewagaintohisFamiliar。Andnowyouthoughtyouheardthelullabywhichafairymightsingtosomefretfulchangelingithadadoptedandsoughttosoothe。Liquid，low，silvery，streamedthetonesbeneaththeenchantedbow。Themoststubborngriefwouldhavepausedtohear；andwithal，attimes，outcameawild，merry，ringingnote，likealaugh，butnotmortallaughter。Itwasoneofhismostsuccessfulairsfromhisbelovedopera，——theSirenintheactofcharmingthewavesandthewindstosleep。Heavenknowswhatnextwouldhavecome，buthisarmwasarrested。Violahadthrownherselfonhisbreast，andkissedhim，withhappyeyesthatsmiledthroughhersunnyhair。Atthatverymomentthedooropened，——amessagefromtheCardinal。ViolamustgotohisEminenceatonce。Hermotherwentwithher。Allwasreconciledandsettled；Violahadherway，andselectedherownopera。OyedullnationsoftheNorth，withyourbroilsanddebates，——yourbustlinglivesofthePnyxandtheAgora!——youcannotguesswhatastirthroughoutmusicalNapleswasoccasionedbytherumourofanewoperaandanewsinger。Butwhosetheopera？Nocabinetintrigueeverwassosecret。Pisanicamebackonenightfromthetheatre，evidentlydisturbedandirate。Woetothineearshadstthouheardthebarbitonthatnight!Theyhadsuspendedhimfromhisoffice，——
　　theyfearedthatthenewopera，andthefirstdebutofhisdaughterasprimadonna，wouldbetoomuchforhisnerves。Andhisvariations，hisdiablerieofsirensandharpies，onsuchanight，madeahazardnottobecontemplatedwithoutawe。Tobesetaside，andontheverynightthathischild，whosemelodywasbutanemanationofhisown，wastoperform，——setasideforsomenewrival:itwastoomuchforamusician'sfleshandblood。
　　Forthefirsttimehespokeinwordsuponthesubject，andgravelyasked——forthatquestionthebarbiton，eloquentasitwas，couldnotexpressdistinctly——whatwastobetheopera，andwhatthepart？AndViolaasgravelyansweredthatshewaspledgedtotheCardinalnottoreveal。Pisanisaidnothing，butdisappearedwiththeviolin；andpresentlytheyheardtheFamiliarfromthehouse-topwhither，whenthoroughlyoutofhumour，themusiciansometimesfled，whiningandsighingasifitsheartwerebroken。
　　TheaffectionsofPisaniwerelittlevisibleonthesurface。Hewasnotoneofthosefond，caressingfatherswhosechildrenareeverplayingroundtheirknees；hismindandsoulweresothoroughlyinhisartthatdomesticlifeglidedbyhim，seeminglyasifTHATwereadream，andtheheartthesubstantialformandbodyofexistence。Personsmuchcultivatinganabstractstudyareoftenthus；mathematiciansproverbiallyso。WhenhisservantrantothecelebratedFrenchphilosopher，shrieking，"Thehouseisonfire，sir!""Goandtellmywifethen，fool!"saidthewiseman，settlingbacktohisproblems；"do_I_evermeddlewithdomesticaffairs？"Butwhataremathematicstomusic——music，thatnotonlycomposesoperas，butplaysonthebarbiton？DoyouknowwhattheillustriousGiardinisaidwhenthetyroaskedhowlongitwouldtaketolearntoplayontheviolin？Hear，anddespair，yewhowouldbendthebowtowhichthatofUlysseswasaplaything，"Twelvehoursadayfortwentyyearstogether!"Canaman，then，whoplaysthebarbitonbealwaysplayingalsowithhislittleones？No，Pisani；often，withthekeensusceptibilityofchildhood，poorViolahadstolenfromtheroomtoweepatthethoughtthatthoudidstnotloveher。Andyet，underneaththisoutwardabstractionoftheartist，thenaturalfondnessflowedallthesame；andasshegrewup，thedreamerhadunderstoodthedreamer。Andnow，shutoutfromallfamehimself；tobeforbiddentohailevenhisdaughter'sfame!——andthatdaughterherselftobeintheconspiracyagainsthim!Sharperthantheserpent'stoothwastheingratitude，andsharperthantheserpent'stoothwasthewailofthepityingbarbiton!
　　Theeventfulhouriscome。Violaisgonetothetheatre，——hermotherwithher。Theindignantmusicianremainsathome。
　　Gionettaburstsintotheroom:myLordCardinal'scarriageisatthedoor，——thePadroneissentfor。Hemustlayasidehisviolin；hemustputonhisbrocadecoatandhislaceruffles。
　　Heretheyare，——quick，quick!Andquickrollsthegildedcoach，andmajesticsitsthedriver，andstatelilyprancethesteeds。
　　PoorPisaniislostinamistofuncomfortableamaze。Hearrivesatthetheatre；hedescendsatthegreatdoor；heturnsroundandround，andlooksabouthimandabout:hemissessomething，——
　　whereistheviolin？Alas!hissoul，hisvoice，hisselfofself，isleftbehind!Itisbutanautomatonthatthelackeysconductupthestairs，throughthetier，intotheCardinal'sbox。
　　Butthen，whatburstsuponhim!Doeshedream？Thefirstactisovertheydidnotsendforhimtillsuccessseemednolongerdoubtful；thefirstacthasdecidedall。HefeelsTHATbytheelectricsympathywhichevertheonehearthasatoncewithavastaudience。Hefeelsitbythebreathlessstillnessofthatmultitude；hefeelsitevenbytheliftedfingeroftheCardinal。
　　HeseeshisViolaonthestage，radiantinherrobesandgems，——
　　hehearshervoicethrillingthroughthesingleheartofthethousands!Butthescene，thepart，themusic!Itishisotherchild，——hisimmortalchild；thespirit-infantofhissoul；hisdarlingofmanyyearsofpatientobscurityandpininggenius；hismasterpiece；hisoperaoftheSiren!
　　This，then，wasthemysterythathadsogalledhim，——thisthecauseofthequarrelwiththeCardinal；thisthesecretnottobeproclaimedtillthesuccesswaswon，andthedaughterhadunitedherfather'striumphwithherown!
　　Andthereshestands，asallsoulsbowbeforeher，——fairerthantheverySirenhehadcalledfromthedeepsofmelody。Oh，longandsweetrecompenseoftoil!Whereisonearththerapturelikethatwhichisknowntogeniuswhenatlastitburstsfromitshiddencavernintolightandfame!
　　Hedidnotspeak，hedidnotmove；hestoodtransfixed，breathless，thetearsrollingdownhischeeks；onlyfromtimetotimehishandsstillwanderedabout，——mechanicallytheysoughtforthefaithfulinstrument，whywasitnottheretosharehistriumph？
　　Atlastthecurtainfell；butonsuchastormanddiapasonofapplause!Uprosetheaudienceasoneman，aswithonevoicethatdearnamewasshouted。Shecameon，trembling，pale，andinthewholecrowdsawbutherfather'sface。Theaudiencefollowedthosemoistenedeyes；theyrecognisedwithathrillthedaughter'simpulseandhermeaning。ThegoodoldCardinaldrewhimgentlyforward。Wildmusician，thydaughterhasgiventheebackmorethanthelifethougavest!
　　"Mypoorviolin!"saidhe，wipinghiseyes，"theywillneverhisstheeagainnow!"
　　CHAPTER1。III。
　　Frasicontrarietempreinghiaccioeinfoco，Inrisoeinpianto，efrapauraespemeL'ingannatriceDonna——
　　"Gerusal。Lib。，"cant。iv。xciv。
　　Betweensuchcontrariousmixturesoficeandfire，laughterandtears，——fearandhope，thedeceivingdame。
　　Nownotwithstandingthetriumphbothofthesingerandtheopera，therehadbeenonemomentinthefirstact，and，consequently，BEFOREthearrivalofPisani，whenthescaleseemedmorethandoubtful。Itwasinachorusrepletewithallthepeculiaritiesofthecomposer。AndwhentheMaelstromofCapricciwhirledandfoamed，andtoreearandsensethrougheveryvarietyofsound，theaudiencesimultaneouslyrecognisedthehandofPisani。A
　　titlehadbeengiventotheoperawhichhadhithertopreventedallsuspicionofitsparentage；andtheovertureandopening，inwhichthemusichadbeenregularandsweet，hadledtheaudiencetofancytheydetectedthegeniusoftheirfavouritePaisiello。
　　LongaccustomedtoridiculeandalmosttodespisethepretensionsofPisaniasacomposer，theynowfeltasiftheyhadbeenundulycheatedintotheapplausewithwhichtheyhadhailedtheovertureandthecommencingscenas。Anominousbuzzcirculatedroundthehouse:thesingers，theorchestra，——electricallysensitivetotheimpressionoftheaudience，——grew，themselves，agitatedanddismayed，andfailedintheenergyandprecisionwhichcouldalonecarryoffthegrotesquenessofthemusic。
　　Therearealwaysineverytheatremanyrivalstoanewauthorandanewperformer，——apartyimpotentwhileallgoeswell，butadangerousambushtheinstantsomeaccidentthrowsintoconfusionthemarchofsuccess。Ahissarose；itwaspartial，itistrue，butthesignificantsilenceofallapplauseseemedtoforebodethecomingmomentwhenthedispleasurewouldgrowcontagious。Itwasthebreaththatstirredtheimpendingavalanche。AtthatcriticalmomentViola，theSirenqueen，emergedforthefirsttimefromheroceancave。Asshecameforwardtothelamps，thenoveltyofhersituation，thechillingapathyoftheaudience，——
　　whicheventhesightofsosingularabeautydidnotatthefirstarouse，——thewhispersofthemalignantsingersonthestage，theglareofthelights，andmore——farmorethantherest——thatrecenthiss，whichhadreachedherinherconcealment，allfrozeupherfacultiesandsuspendedhervoice。And，insteadofthegrandinvocationintowhichsheoughtrapidlytohaveburst，theregalSiren，retransformedintothetremblinggirl，stoodpaleandmutebeforethestern，coldarrayofthosecountlesseyes。
　　Atthatinstant，andwhenconsciousnessitselfseemedabouttofailher，assheturnedatimidbeseechingglancearoundthestillmultitude，sheperceived，inaboxnearthestage，acountenancewhichatonce，andlikemagic，producedonhermindaneffectnevertobeanalysednorforgotten。Itwasonethatawakenedanindistinct，hauntingreminiscence，asifshehadseenitinthoseday-dreamsshehadbeensowontfrominfancytoindulge。Shecouldnotwithdrawhergazefromthatface，andasshegazed，theaweandcoldnessthathadbeforeseizedher，vanishedlikeamistfrombeforethesun。
　　Inthedarksplendouroftheeyesthatmetherowntherewasindeedsomuchofgentleencouragement，ofbenignandcompassionateadmiration，——somuchthatwarmed，andanimated，andnerved，——thatanyone，actorororator，whohaseverobservedtheeffectthatasingleearnestandkindlylookinthecrowdthatistobeaddressedandwon，willproduceuponhismind，mayreadilyaccountforthesuddenandinspiritinginfluencewhichtheeyeandsmileofthestrangerexercisedonthedebutante。
　　Andwhileyetshegazed，andtheglowreturnedtoherheart，thestrangerhalfrose，asiftorecalltheaudiencetoasenseofthecourtesyduetoonesofairandyoung；andtheinstanthisvoicegavethesignal，theaudiencefolloweditbyaburstofgenerousapplause。Forthisstrangerhimselfwasamarkedpersonage，andhisrecentarrivalatNapleshaddividedwiththenewoperathegossipofthecity。Andthenastheapplauseceased，clear，full，andfreedfromeveryfetter，likeaspiritfromtheclay，theSiren'svoicepouredforthitsentrancingmusic。FromthattimeViolaforgotthecrowd，thehazard，thewholeworld，——exceptthefairyoneoverwithshepresided。Itseemedthatthestranger'spresenceonlyservedstillmoretoheightenthatdelusion，inwhichtheartistseesnocreationwithoutthecircleofhisart，shefeltasifthatserenebrow，andthosebrillianteyes，inspiredherwithpowersneverknownbefore:and，asifsearchingforalanguagetoexpressthestrangesensationsoccasionedbyhispresence，thatpresenceitselfwhisperedtoherthemelodyandthesong。
　　Onlywhenallwasover，andshesawherfatherandfelthisjoy，didthiswildspellvanishbeforethesweeteroneofthehouseholdandfiliallove。Yetagain，assheturnedfromthestage，shelookedbackinvoluntarily，andthestranger'scalmandhalf-melancholysmilesankintoherheart，——tolivethere，toberecalledwithconfusedmemories，halfofpleasure，andhalfofpain。
　　PassoverthecongratulationsofthegoodCardinal-Virtuoso，astonishedatfindinghimselfandallNapleshadbeenhithertointhewrongonasubjectoftaste，——stillmoreastonishedatfindinghimselfandallNaplescombiningtoconfessit；passoverthewhisperedecstasiesofadmirationwhichbuzzedinthesinger'sear，asoncemore，inhermodestveilandquietdress，sheescapedfromthecrowdofgallantsthatchokedupeveryavenuebehindthescenes；passoverthesweetembraceoffatherandchild，returningthroughthestarlitstreetsandalongthedesertedChiajaintheCardinal'scarriage；neverpausenowtonotethetearsandejaculationsofthegood，simple-heartedmother，——seethemreturned；seethewell-knownroom，venimusadlaremnostrumWecometoourownhouse。；seeoldGionettabustlingatthesupper；andhearPisani，asherousesthebarbitonfromitscase，communicatingallthathashappenedtotheintelligentFamiliar；harktothemother'smerry，low，Englishlaugh。Why，Viola，strangechild，sittestthouapart，thyfaceleaningonthyfairhands，thineeyesfixedonspace？
　　Up，rousethee!Everydimpleonthecheekofhomemustsmileto-night。"Ridetequidquidestdomicachinnorum。"Catull。"adSirm。Penin。"
　　Andahappyreunionitwasroundthathumbletable:afeastLucullusmighthaveenviedinhisHallofApollo，inthedriedgrapes，andthedaintysardines，andtheluxuriouspolenta，andtheoldlacrimaapresentfromthegoodCardinal。Thebarbiton，placedonachair——atall，high-backedchair——besidethemusician，seemedtotakeapartinthefestivemeal。Itshonestvarnishedfaceglowedinthelightofthelamp；andtherewasanimpish，slydemurenessinitsverysilence，asitsmaster，betweeneverymouthful，turnedtotalktoitofsomethinghehadforgottentorelatebefore。Thegoodwifelookedonaffectionately，andcouldnoteatforjoy；butsuddenlysherose，andplacedontheartist'stemplesalaurelwreath，whichshehadwovenbeforehandinfondanticipation；andViola，ontheothersideherbrother，thebarbiton，rearrangedthechaplet，and，smoothingbackherfather'shair，whispered，"CaroPadre，youwillnotletHIMscoldmeagain!"
　　ThenpoorPisani，ratherdistractedbetweenthetwo，andexcitedbothbythelacrimaandhistriumph，turnedtotheyoungerchildwithsonaiveandgrotesqueapride，"Idon'tknowwhichtothankthemost。Yougivemesomuchjoy，child，——Iamsoproudoftheeandmyself。ButheandI，poorfellow，havebeensooftenunhappytogether!"
　　Viola'ssleepwasbroken，——thatwasnatural。Theintoxicationofvanityandtriumph，thehappinessinthehappinessshehadcaused，allthiswasbetterthansleep。Butstillfromallthis，againandagainherthoughtsflewtothosehauntingeyes，tothatsmilewithwhichforeverthememoryofthetriumph，ofthehappiness，wastobeunited。Herfeelings，likeherowncharacter，werestrangeandpeculiar。Theywerenotthoseofagirlwhoseheart，forthefirsttimereachedthroughtheeye，sighsitsnaturalandnativelanguageoffirstlove。Itwasnotsomuchadmiration，thoughthefacethatreflecteditselfoneverywaveofherrestlessfancieswasoftherarestorderofmajestyandbeauty；norapleasedandenamouredrecollectionthatthesightofthisstrangerhadbequeathed:itwasahumansentimentofgratitudeanddelight，mixedwithsomethingmoremysterious，offearandawe。Certainlyshehadseenbeforethosefeatures；butwhenandhow？Onlywhenherthoughtshadsoughttoshapeoutherfuture，andwhen，inspiteofalltheattemptstovisionforthafateofflowersandsunshine，adarkandchillforebodingmadeherrecoilbackintoherdeepestself。Itwasasomethingfoundthathadlongbeensoughtforbyathousandrestlessyearningsandvaguedesires，lessoftheheartthanmind；notaswhenyouthdiscoverstheonetobebeloved，butratheraswhenthestudent，longwanderingaftertheclewtosometruthinscience，seesitglimmerdimlybeforehim，tobeckon，torecede，toallure，andtowaneagain。Shefellatlastintounquietslumber，vexedbydeformed，fleeting，shapelessphantoms；
　　and，waking，asthesun，throughaveilofhazycloud，glintedwithasicklyrayacrossthecasement，sheheardherfathersettledbackbetimestohisonepursuit，andcallingforthfromhisFamiliaralowmournfulstrain，likeadirgeoverthedead。
　　"Andwhy，"sheasked，whenshedescendedtotheroombelow，——
　　"why，myfather，wasyourinspirationsosad，afterthejoyoflastnight？"
　　"Iknownot，child。Imeanttobemerry，andcomposeanairinhonourofthee；butheisanobstinatefellow，this，——andhewouldhaveitso。"
　　CHAPTER1。IV。
　　EcosiipigrietimididesiriSprona。
　　"Gerusal。Lib。，"cant。iv。lxxxviii。
　　Andthustheslowandtimidpassionsurged。
　　ItwasthecustomofPisani，exceptwhenthedutiesofhisprofessionmadespecialdemandonhistime，todevoteacertainportionofthemid-daytosleep，——ahabitnotsomuchaluxuryasanecessitytoamanwhosleptverylittleduringthenight。Infact，whethertocomposeortopractice，thehoursofnoonwerepreciselythoseinwhichPisanicouldnothavebeenactiveifhewould。Hisgeniusresembledthosefountainsfullatdawnandevening，overflowingatnight，andperfectlydryatthemeridian。
　　Duringthistime，consecratedbyherhusbandtorepose，thesignoragenerallystoleouttomakethepurchasesnecessaryforthelittlehousehold，ortoenjoyaswhatwomandoesnot？alittlerelaxationingossipwithsomeofherownsex。Andthedayfollowingthisbrillianttriumph，howmanycongratulationswouldshehavetoreceive!
　　AtthesetimesitwasViola'shabittoseatherselfwithoutthedoorofthehouse，underanawningwhichshelteredfromthesunwithoutobstructingtheview；andtherenow，withtheprompt-bookonherknee，onwhichhereyeroveslistlesslyfromtimetotime，youmaybeholdher，thevine-leavesclusteringfromtheirarchingtrellisoverthedoorbehind，andthelazywhite-sailedboatsskimmingalongtheseathatstretchedbefore。
　　Asshethussat，ratherinreveriethanthought，amancomingfromthedirectionofPosilipo，withaslowstepanddowncasteyes，passedclosebythehouse，andViola，lookingupabruptly，startedinakindofterrorassherecognisedthestranger。Sheutteredaninvoluntaryexclamation，andthecavalierturning，saw，andpaused。
　　Hestoodamomentortwobetweenherandthesunlitocean，contemplatinginasilencetooseriousandgentlefortheboldnessofgallantry，theblushingfaceandtheyoungslightformbeforehim；atlengthhespoke。
　　"Areyouhappy，mychild，"hesaid，inalmostapaternaltone，"atthecareerthatliesbeforeyou？Fromsixteentothirty，themusicinthebreathofapplauseissweeterthanallthemusicyourvoicecanutter!"
　　"Iknownot，"repliedViola，falteringly，butencouragedbytheliquidsoftnessoftheaccentsthataddressedher，——"IknownotwhetherIamhappynow，butIwaslastnight。AndIfeel，too，Excellency，thatIhaveyoutothank，though，perhaps，youscarceknowwhy!"
　　"Youdeceiveyourself，"saidthecavalier，withasmile。"IamawarethatIassistedtoyourmeritedsuccess，anditisyouwhoscarceknowhow。TheWHYIwilltellyou:becauseIsawinyourheartanoblerambitionthanthatofthewoman'svanity；itwasthedaughterthatinterestedme。PerhapsyouwouldratherI
　　shouldhaveadmiredthesinger？"
　　"No；oh，no!"
　　"Well，Ibelieveyou。Andnow，sincewehavethusmet，Iwillpausetocounselyou。Whennextyougotothetheatre，youwillhaveatyourfeetalltheyounggallantsofNaples。Poorinfant!
　　theflamethatdazzlestheeyecanscorchthewing。Rememberthattheonlyhomagethatdoesnotsullymustbethatwhichthesegallantswillnotgivethee。Andwhateverthydreamsofthefuture，——andIsee，whileIspeaktothee，howwanderingtheyare，andwild，——mayonlythosebefulfilledwhichcentreroundthehearthofhome。"
　　Hepaused，asViola'sbreastheavedbeneathitsrobe。Andwithaburstofnaturalandinnocentemotions，scarcelycomprehending，thoughanItalian，thegravenatureofhisadvice，sheexclaimed，——
　　"Ah，Excellency，youcannotknowhowdeartomethathomeisalready。Andmyfather，——therewouldbenohome，signor，withouthim!"
　　Adeepandmelancholyshadesettledoverthefaceofthecavalier。Helookedupatthequiethouseburiedamidstthevine-leaves，andturnedagaintothevivid，animatedfaceoftheyoungactress。
　　"Itiswell，"saidhe。"Asimpleheartmaybeitsownbestguide，andso，goon，andprosper。Adieu，fairsinger。"
　　"Adieu，Excellency；but，"andsomethingshecouldnotresist——ananxious，sickeningfeelingoffearandhope，——impelledhertothequestion，"Ishallseeyouagain，shallInot，atSanCarlo？"
　　"Not，atleast，forsometime。IleaveNaplesto-day。"
　　"Indeed!"andViola'sheartsankwithinher；thepoetryofthestagewasgone。
　　"And，"saidthecavalier，turningback，andgentlylayinghishandonhers，——"and，perhaps，beforewemeet，youmayhavesuffered:knownthefirstsharpgriefsofhumanlife，——knownhowlittlewhatfamecangain，repayswhattheheartcanlose；butbebraveandyieldnot，——noteventowhatmayseemthepietyofsorrow。Observeyontreeinyourneighbour'sgarden。Lookhowitgrowsup，crookedanddistorted。Somewindscatteredthegermfromwhichitsprang，inthecleftsoftherock；chokedupandwalledroundbycragsandbuildings，byNatureandman，itslifehasbeenonestruggleforthelight，——lightwhichmakestothatlifethenecessityandtheprinciple:youseehowithaswrithedandtwisted；how，meetingthebarrierinonespot，ithaslabouredandworked，stemandbranches，towardstheclearskiesatlast。Whathaspreserveditthrougheachdisfavourofbirthandcircumstances，——whyareitsleavesasgreenandfairasthoseofthevinebehindyou，which，withallitsarms，canembracetheopensunshine？Mychild，becauseoftheveryinstinctthatimpelledthestruggle，——becausethelabourforthelightwontothelightatlength。Sowithagallantheart，througheveryadverseaccidentofsorrowandoffatetoturntothesun，tostrivefortheheaven；thisitisthatgivesknowledgetothestrongandhappinesstotheweak。Erewemeetagain，youwillturnsadandheavyeyestothosequietboughs，andwhenyouhearthebirdssingfromthem，andseethesunshinecomeaslantfromcragandhousetoptobetheplayfellowoftheirleaves，learnthelessonthatNatureteachesyou，andstrivethroughdarknesstothelight!"
　　Ashespokehemovedonslowly，andleftViolawondering，silent，saddenedwithhisdimprophecyofcomingevil，andyet，throughsadness，charmed。Involuntarilyhereyesfollowedhim，——
　　involuntarilyshestretchedforthherarms，asifbyagesturetocallhimback；shewouldhavegivenworldstohaveseenhimturn，——tohaveheardoncemorehislow，calm，silveryvoice；tohavefeltagainthelighttouchofhishandonhers。Asmoonlightthatsoftensintobeautyeveryangleonwhichitfalls，seemedhispresence，——asmoonlightvanishes，andthingsassumetheircommonaspectoftheruggedandthemean，herecededfromhereyes，andtheoutwardscenewascommonplaceoncemore。
　　Thestrangerpassedon，throughthatlongandlovelyroadwhichreachesatlastthepalacesthatfacethepublicgardens，andconductstothemorepopulousquartersofthecity。
　　Agroupofyoung，dissipatedcourtiers，loiteringbythegatewayofahousewhichwasopenforthefavouritepastimeoftheday，——
　　theresortofthewealthierandmorehigh-borngamesters，——madewayforhim，aswithacourteousinclinationhepassedthemby。
　　"Perfede，"saidone，"isnotthattherichZanoni，ofwhomthetowntalks？"
　　"Ay；theysayhiswealthisincalculable!"
　　"THEYsay，——whoareTHEY？——whatistheauthority？HehasnotbeenmanydaysatNaples，andIcannotyetfindanyonewhoknowsaughtofhisbirthplace，hisparentage，or，whatismoreimportant，hisestates!"
　　"Thatistrue；buthearrivedinagoodlyvessel，whichTHEYSAY
　　ishisown。See，——no，youcannotseeithere；butitridesyonderinthebay。Thebankershedealswithspeakwithaweofthesumsplacedintheirhands。"
　　"Whencecamehe？"
　　"FromsomeseaportintheEast。MyvaletlearnedfromsomeofthesailorsontheMolethathehadresidedmanyyearsintheinteriorofIndia。"
　　"Ah，IamtoldthatinIndiamenpickupgoldlikepebbles，andthattherearevalleyswherethebirdsbuildtheirnestswithemeraldstoattractthemoths。Herecomesourprinceofgamesters，Cetoxa；besurethathealreadymusthavemadeacquaintancewithsowealthyacavalier；hehasthatattractiontogoldwhichthemagnethastosteel。Well，Cetoxa，whatfreshnewsoftheducatsofSignorZanoni？"
　　"Oh，"saidCetoxa，carelessly，"myfriend——"
　　"Ha!ha!hearhim；hisfriend——"
　　"Yes；myfriendZanoniisgoingtoRomeforashorttime；whenhereturns，hehaspromisedmetofixadaytosupwithme，andI
　　willthenintroducehimtoyou，andtothebestsocietyofNaples!Diavolo!butheisamostagreeableandwittygentleman!"
　　"Praytellushowyoucamesosuddenlytobehisfriend。"
　　"MydearBelgioso，nothingmorenatural。HedesiredaboxatSanCarlo；butIneednottellyouthattheexpectationofanewoperaah，howsuperbitis，——thatpoordevil，Pisani；whowouldhavethoughtit？andanewsingerwhataface，——whatavoice!——
　　ah!hadengagedeverycornerofthehouse。IheardofZanoni'sdesiretohonourthetalentofNaples，and，withmyusualcourtesytodistinguishedstrangers，Isenttoplacemyboxathisdisposal。Heacceptsit，——Iwaitonhimbetweentheacts；heismostcharming；heinvitesmetosupper。Cospetto，whataretinue!Wesitlate，——ItellhimallthenewsofNaples；wegrowbosomfriends；hepressesonmethisdiamondbeforewepart，——isatrifle，hetellsme:thejewellersvalueitat5000
　　pistoles!——themerriesteveningIhavepassedthesetenyears。"
　　Thecavalierscrowdedroundtoadmirethediamond。
　　"SignorCountCetoxa，"saidonegrave-lookingsombreman，whohadcrossedhimselftwoorthreetimesduringtheNeapolitan'snarrative，"areyounotawareofthestrangereportsaboutthisperson；andareyounotafraidtoreceivefromhimagiftwhichmaycarrywithitthemostfatalconsequences？Doyounotknowthatheissaidtobeasorcerer；topossessthemal-occhio；
　　to——"
　　"Prithee，spareusyourantiquatedsuperstitions，"interruptedCetoxa，contemptuously。"Theyareoutoffashion；nothingnowgoesdownbutscepticismandphilosophy。Andwhat，afterall，dotheserumours，whensifted，amountto？Theyhavenooriginbutthis，——asillyoldmanofeighty-six，quiteinhisdotage，solemnlyaversthathesawthissameZanoniseventyyearsagohehimself，thenarrator，thenamereboyatMilan；whenthisveryZanoni，asyouallsee，isatleastasyoungasyouorI，Belgioso。"
　　"Butthat，"saidthegravegentleman，——"THATisthemystery。OldAvellideclaresthatZanonidoesnotseemadayolderthanwhentheymetatMilan。HesaysthateventhenatMilan——markthis——
　　where，thoughunderanothername，thisZanoniappearedinthesamesplendour，hewasattendedalsobythesamemystery。AndthatanoldmanTHERErememberedtohaveseenhimsixtyyearsbefore，inSweden。"
　　"Tush，"returnedCetoxa，"thesamethinghasbeensaidofthequackCagliostro，——merefables。IwillbelievethemwhenIseethisdiamondturntoawispofhay。Fortherest，"headdedgravely，"Iconsiderthisillustriousgentlemanmyfriend；andawhisperagainsthishonourandreputewillinfuturebeequivalenttoanaffronttomyself。"
　　Cetoxawasaredoubtedswordsman，andexcelledinapeculiarlyawkwardmanoeuvre，whichhehimselfhadaddedtothevariationsofthestoccata。Thegravegentleman，howeveranxiousforthespiritualwealofthecount，hadanequalregardforhisowncorporealsafety。Hecontentedhimselfwithalookofcompassion，and，turningthroughthegateway，ascendedthestairstothegaming-tables。
　　"Ha，ha!"saidCetoxa，laughing，"ourgoodLoredanoisenviousofmydiamond。Gentlemen，yousupwithmeto-night。IassureyouI
　　nevermetamoredelightful，sociable，entertainingperson，thanmydearfriendtheSignorZanoni。"
　　CHAPTER1。V。
　　QuelloIppogifo，grandeestranoaugelloLoportavia。
　　"OrlandoFurioso，"c。vi。xviii。
　　Thathippogriff，greatandmarvellousbird，bearshimaway。
　　Andnow，accompanyingthismysteriousZanoni，amIcompelledtobidashortfarewelltoNaples。Mountbehindme，——mountonmyhippogriff，reader；settleyourselfatyourease。Iboughtthepilliontheotherdayofapoetwholoveshiscomfort；ithasbeennewlystuffedforyourspecialaccommodation。So，so，weascend!Lookasweridealoft，——look!——neverfear，hippogriffsneverstumble；andeveryhippogriffinItalyiswarrantedtocarryelderlygentlemen，——lookdownontheglidinglandscapes!
　　There，neartheruinsoftheOscan'soldAtella，risesAversa，oncethestrongholdoftheNorman；theregleamthecolumnsofCapua，abovetheVulturnianStream。Hailtoye，cornfieldsandvineyardsfamousfortheoldFalernian!Hailtoye，goldenorange-grovesofMoladiGaeta!Hailtoye，sweetshrubsandwildflowers，omniscopianarium，thatclothethemountain-skirtsofthesilentLautulae!ShallwerestattheVolscianAnxur，——
　　themodernTerracina，——wheretheloftyrockstandslikethegiantthatguardsthelastbordersofthesouthernlandoflove？Away，away!andholdyourbreathasweflitabovethePontineMarshes。
　　Drearyanddesolate，theirmiasmaistothegardenswehavepassedwhattherankcommonplaceoflifeistotheheartwhenithasleftlovebehind。
　　MournfulCampagna，thouopenestonusinmajesticsadness。Rome，seven-hilledRome!receiveusasMemoryreceivestheway-worn；
　　receiveusinsilence，amidstruins!Whereisthetravellerwepursue？Turnthehippogriffloosetograze:helovestheacanthusthatwreathesroundyonbrokencolumns。Yes，thatisthearchofTitus，theconquerorofJerusalem，——thattheColosseum!Throughonepassedthetriumphofthedeifiedinvader；inonefellthebutcheredgladiators。Monumentsofmurder，howpoorthethoughts，howmeanthememoriesyeawaken，comparedwiththosethatspeaktotheheartofmanontheheightsofPhyle，orbythylonemound，greyMarathon!Westandamidstweedsandbramblesandlongwavingherbage。WherewestandreignedNero，——herewerehistessellatedfloors；here，"Mightyintheheaven，asecondheaven，"
　　hungthevaultofhisivoryroofs；here，archuponarch，pillaronpillar，glitteredtotheworldthegoldenpalaceofitsmaster，——theGoldenHouseofNero。Howthelizardwatchesuswithhisbright，timorouseye!Wedisturbhisreign。Gatherthatwildflower:theGoldenHouseisvanished，butthewildflowermayhavekintothosewhichthestranger'shandscatteredoverthetyrant'sgrave；see，overthissoil，thegraveofRome，Naturestrewsthewildflowersstill!
　　Inthemidstofthisdesolationisanoldbuildingofthemiddleages。Heredwellsasingularrecluse。Intheseasonofthemalariathenativepeasantfliestherankvegetationround；buthe，astrangerandaforeigner，noassociates，nocompanions，exceptbooksandinstrumentsofscience。Heisoftenseenwanderingoverthegrass-grownhills，orsaunteringthroughthestreetsofthenewcity，notwiththeabsentbrowandincuriousairofstudents，butwithobservantpiercingeyesthatseemtodiveintotheheartsofthepassers-by。Anoldman，butnotinfirm，——erectandstately，asifinhisprime。Noneknowwhetherheberichorpoor。Heasksnocharity，andhegivesnone，——hedoesnoevil，andseemstoconfernogood。Heisamanwhoappearstohavenoworldbeyondhimself；butappearancesaredeceitful，andScience，aswellasBenevolence，livesintheUniverse。Thisabode，forthefirsttimesincethusoccupied，avisitorenters。ItisZanoni。
　　Youobservethosetwomenseatedtogether，conversingearnestly。
　　Yearslongandmanyhaveflownawaysincetheymetlast，——atleast，bodily，andfacetoface。Butiftheyaresages，thoughtcanmeetthought，andspiritspirit，thoughoceansdividetheforms。Deathitselfdividesnotthewise。ThoumeetestPlatowhenthineeyesmoistenoverthePhaedo。MayHomerlivewithallmenforever!
　　Theyconverse；theyconfesstoeachother；theyconjureupthepast，andrepeopleit；butnotehowdifferentlydosuchremembrancesaffectthetwo。OnZanoni'sface，despiteitshabitualcalm，theemotionschangeandgo。HEhasactedinthepasthesurveys；butnotatraceofthehumanitythatparticipatesinjoyandsorrowcanbedetectedonthepassionlessvisageofhiscompanion；thepast，tohim，asisnowthepresent，hasbeenbutasNaturetothesage，thevolumetothestudent，——acalmandspirituallife，astudy，acontemplation。
　　Fromthepasttheyturntothefuture。Ah!atthecloseofthelastcentury，thefutureseemedathingtangible，——itwaswovenupinallmen'sfearsandhopesofthepresent。
　　Atthevergeofthathundredyears，Man，theripestbornofTime，"AndesJahrhundertsNeige，DerreifsteSohnderZeit。"
　　"DieKunstler。"
　　stoodasatthedeathbedoftheOldWorld，andbeheldtheNewOrb，blood-redamidstcloudandvapour，——uncertainifacometorasun。Beholdtheicyandprofounddisdainonthebrowoftheoldman，——theloftyyettouchingsadnessthatdarkensthegloriouscountenanceofZanoni。Isitthatoneviewswithcontemptthestruggleanditsissue，andtheotherwithaweorpity？Wisdomcontemplatingmankindleadsbuttothetworesults，——compassionordisdain。Hewhobelievesinotherworldscanaccustomhimselftolookonthisasthenaturalistontherevolutionsofanant-hill，orofaleaf。WhatistheEarthtoInfinity，——whatitsdurationtotheEternal？Oh，howmuchgreateristhesoulofonemanthanthevicissitudesofthewholeglobe!Childofheaven，andheirofimmortality，howfromsomestarhereafterwiltthoulookbackontheant-hillanditscommotions，fromClovistoRobespierre，fromNoahtotheFinalFire。Thespiritthatcancontemplate，thatlivesonlyintheintellect，canascendtoitsstar，evenfromthemidstoftheburial-groundcalledEarth，andwhilethesarcophaguscalledLifeimmuresinitsclaytheeverlasting!
　　Butthou，Zanoni，——thouhastrefusedtoliveONLYintheintellect；thouhastnotmortifiedtheheart；thypulsestillbeatswiththesweetmusicofmortalpassion；thykindistotheestillsomethingwarmerthananabstraction，——thouwouldstlookuponthisRevolutioninitscradle，whichthestormsrock；thouwouldstseetheworldwhileitselementsyetstrugglethroughthechaos!
　　Go!
　　CHAPTER1。VI。
　　Precepteursignoransdecefaibleunivers——Voltaire。
　　Ignorantteachersofthisweakworld。
　　Nousetionsatablechezundenosconfreresal'Academie，GrandSeigneurethommed'esprit——LaHarpe。
　　WesuppedwithoneofourconfreresoftheAcademy，——agreatnoblemanandwit。
　　Oneevening，atParis，severalmonthsafterthedateofourlastchapter，therewasareunionofsomeofthemosteminentwitsofthetime，atthehouseofapersonagedistinguishedalikebynoblebirthandliberalaccomplishments。Nearlyallpresentwereoftheviewsthatwerethenthemode。For，ascameafterwardsatimewhennothingwassounpopularasthepeople，sothatwasthetimewhennothingwassovulgarasaristocracy。Theairiestfinegentlemanandthehaughtiestnoblepratedofequality，andlispedenlightenment。
　　AmongthemoreremarkableguestswereCondorcet，thenintheprimeofhisreputation，thecorrespondentofthekingofPrussia，theintimateofVoltaire，thememberofhalftheacademiesofEurope，——noblebybirth，polishedinmanners，republicaninopinions。There，too，wasthevenerableMalesherbes，"l'amouretlesdelicesdelaNation。"Theidolanddelightofthenationso-calledbyhishistorian，Gaillard。ThereJeanSilvainBailly，theaccomplishedscholar，——theaspiringpolitician。Itwasoneofthosepetitssoupersforwhichthecapitalofallsocialpleasureswassorenowned。Theconversation，asmightbeexpected，wasliteraryandintellectual，enlivenedbygracefulpleasantry。Manyoftheladiesofthatancientandproudnoblesse——forthenoblesseyetexisted，thoughitshourswerealreadynumbered——addedtothecharmofthesociety；andtheirsweretheboldestcriticisms，andoftenthemostliberalsentiments。
　　Vainlabourforme——vainlabouralmostforthegraveEnglishlanguage——todojusticetothesparklingparadoxesthatflewfromliptolip。Thefavouritethemewasthesuperiorityofthemodernstotheancients。Condorcetonthisheadwaseloquent，andtosome，atleast，ofhisaudience，mostconvincing。ThatVoltairewasgreaterthanHomerfewthereweredisposedtodeny。
　　Keenwastheridiculelavishedonthedullpedantrywhichfindseverythingancientnecessarilysublime。
　　"Yet，"saidthegracefulMarquisde——，asthechampagnedancedtohisglass，"moreridiculousstillisthesuperstitionthatfindseverythingincomprehensibleholy!Butintelligencecirculates，Condorcet；likewater，itfindsitslevel。Myhairdressersaidtomethismorning，'ThoughIambutapoorfellow，Ibelieveaslittleasthefinestgentleman!'"
　　"Unquestionably，thegreatRevolutiondrawsneartoitsfinalcompletion，——apasdegeant，asMontesquieusaidofhisownimmortalwork。"