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better heart; my laborious undertaking。  But now a new misfortune

befell me:  I found; as I proceeded; that the author had made two

copies of his work; one much more elaborate and detailed than the

other; I had stumbled upon the earlier copy; and had my whole

task to remodel; and the chapters I had written to retranslate。

I may say then; that; exclusive of intervals devoted to more

pressing occupations; my unlucky promise cost me the toil of

several years before I could bring it to adequate fulfilment。

The task was the more difficult; since the style in the original

is written in a kind of rhythmical prose; as if the author

desired that in some degree his work should be regarded as one of

poetical conception and design。  To this it was not possible to

do justice; and in the attempt I have doubtless very often need

of the reader's indulgent consideration。  My natural respect for

the old gentleman's vagaries; with a muse of equivocal character;

must be my only excuse whenever the language; without luxuriating

into verse; borrows flowers scarcely natural to prose。  Truth

compels me also to confess; that; with all my pains; I am by no

means sure that I have invariably given the true meaning of the

cipher; nay; that here and there either a gap in the narrative;

or the sudden assumption of a new cipher; to which no key was

afforded; has obliged me to resort to interpolations of my own;

no doubt easily discernible; but which; I flatter myself; are not

inharmonious to the general design。  This confession leads me to

the sentence with which I shall conclude:  If; reader; in this

book there be anything that pleases you; it is certainly mine;

but whenever you come to something you dislike;lay the blame

upon the old gentleman!



London; January; 1842。



N。B。The notes appended to the text are sometimes by the author;

sometimes by the editor。  I have occasionally (but not always)

marked the distinction; where; however; this is omitted; the

ingenuity of the reader will be rarely at fault。









ZANONI。



BOOK I。



THE MUSICIAN。



Due Fontane

Chi di diverso effeto hanno liquore!



〃Ariosto; Orland。 Fur。〃 Canto 1。7。



(Two Founts

That hold a draught of different effects。)





CHAPTER 1。I。



Vergina era

D' alta belta; ma sua belta non cura:

。。。

Di natura; d' amor; de' cieli amici

Le negligenze sue sono artifici。



〃Gerusal。 Lib。;〃 canto ii。 xiv。…xviii。



(She was a virgin of a glorious beauty; but regarded not her

beauty。。。Negligence itself is art in those favoured by Nature; by

love; and by the heavens。)



At Naples; in the latter half of the last century; a worthy

artist named Gaetano Pisani lived and flourished。  He was a

musician of great genius; but not of popular reputation; there

was in all his compositions something capricious and fantastic

which did not please the taste of the Dilettanti of Naples。  He

was fond of unfamiliar subjects into which he introduced airs and

symphonies that excited a kind of terror in those who listened。

The names of his pieces will probably suggest their nature。  I

find; for instance; among his MSS。; these titles:  〃The Feast of

the Harpies;〃 〃The Witches at Benevento;〃 〃The Descent of Orpheus

into Hades;〃 〃The Evil Eye;〃 〃The Eumenides;〃 and many others

that evince a powerful imagination delighting in the fearful and

supernatural; but often relieved by an airy and delicate fancy

with passages of exquisite grace and beauty。  It is true that in

the selection of his subjects from ancient fable; Gaetano Pisani

was much more faithful than his contemporaries to the remote

origin and the early genius of Italian Opera。



That descendant; however effeminate; of the ancient union between

Song and Drama; when; after long obscurity and dethronement; it

regained a punier sceptre; though a gaudier purple; by the banks

of the Etrurian Arno; or amidst the lagunes of Venice; had chosen

all its primary inspirations from the unfamiliar and classic

sources of heathen legend; and Pisani's 〃Descent of Orpheus〃 was

but a bolder; darker; and more scientific repetition of the

〃Euridice〃 which Jacopi Peri set to music at the august nuptials

of Henry of Navarre and Mary of Medicis。*  Still; as I have said;

the style of the Neapolitan musician was not on the whole

pleasing to ears grown nice and euphuistic in the more dulcet

melodies of the day; and faults and extravagances easily

discernible; and often to appearance wilful; served the critics

for an excuse for their distaste。  Fortunately; or the poor

musician might have starved; he was not only a composer; but also

an excellent practical performer; especially on the violin; and

by that instrument he earned a decent subsistence as one of the

orchestra at the Great Theatre of San Carlo。  Here formal and

appointed tasks necessarily kept his eccentric fancies in

tolerable check; though it is recorded that no less than five

times he had been deposed from his desk for having shocked the

conoscenti; and thrown the whole band into confusion; by

impromptu variations of so frantic and startling a nature that

one might well have imagined that the harpies or witches who

inspired his compositions had clawed hold of his instrument。



The impossibility; however; to find any one of equal excellence

as a performer (that is to say; in his more lucid and orderly

moments) had forced his reinstalment; and he had now; for the

most part; reconciled himself to the narrow sphere of his

appointed adagios or allegros。  The audience; too; aware of his

propensity; were quick to perceive the least deviation from the

text; and if he wandered for a moment; which might also be

detected by the eye as well as the ear; in some strange

contortion of visage; and some ominous flourish of his bow; a

gentle and admonitory murmur recalled the musician from his

Elysium or his Tartarus to the sober regions of his desk。  Then

he would start as if from a dream; cast a hurried; frightened;

apologetic glance around; and; with a crestfallen; humbled air;

draw his rebellious instrument back to the beaten track of the

glib monotony。  But at home he would make himself amends for this

reluctant drudgery。  And there; grasping the unhappy violin with

ferocious fingers; he would pour forth; often till the morning

rose; strange; wild measures that would startle the early

fisherman on the shore below with a superstitious awe; and make

him cross himself as if mermaid or sprite had wailed no earthly

music in his ear。



(*Orpheus was the favourite hero of early Italian Opera; or

Lyrical Drama。  The Orfeo of Angelo Politiano was produced in

1475。  The Orfeo of Monteverde was performed at Venice in 1667。)



This man's appearance was in keeping with the characteristics of

his art。  The features were noble and striking; but worn and

haggard; with black; careless locks tangled into a maze of curls;

and a fixed; speculative; dreamy stare in his large and hollow

eyes。  All his movements were peculiar; sudden; and abrupt; as

the impulse seized him; and in gliding through the streets; or

along the beach; he was heard laughing and talking to himself。

Withal; he was a harmless; guileless; gentle creature; and would

share his mite with any idle lazzaroni; whom he often paused to

contemplate as they lay lazily basking in the sun。  Yet was he

thoroughly unsocial。  He formed no friends; flattered no patrons;

resorted to none of the merry…makings so dear to the children of

music and the South。  He and his art seemed alone suited to each

other;both quaint; primitive; unworldly; irregular。  You could

not separate the man from his music; it was himself。  Without it

he was nothing; a mere machine!  WITH it; he was king over worlds

of his own。  Poor man; he had little enough in this!  At a

manufacturing town in England there is a gravestone on which the

epitaph records 〃one Claudius Phillips; whose absolute contempt

for riches; and inimitable performance on the violin; made him

the admiration of all that knew him!〃  Logical conjunction of

opposite eulogies!  In proportion; O Genius; to thy contempt for

riches will be thy performance on thy violin!



Gaetano Pisani's talents as a composer had been chiefly exhibited

in music appropriate to this his favourite instrument; of all

unquestionably the most various and royal in its resources and

power over the passions。  As Shakespeare among poets is the

Cremona among instruments。  Nevertheless; he had composed other

pieces of larger ambition and wider accomplishment; and chief of

these; his precious; his unpurchased; his unpublished; his

unpublishable and imperishable opera of the 〃Siren。〃  This great

work had been the dream of his boyhood; the mistress of his

manhood; in advancing age 〃it stood beside him like his youth。〃

Vainly had he struggled to place it before the world。  Even

bland; unjealous Paisiello; Maestro di Capella; shook his gentle

head when the musician favoured him with a specimen of one of his

most thrilling scenas。  And yet; Paisiello; though that music

differs from all Durante taught thee to emulate; there maybut

patience; Gaetano Pisani! bide thy time; and keep thy violin in

tune!



Strange as it may appear to the fairer reader; this grotesque

personage had yet formed those ties which ordinary mortals are

apt to consider their especial monopoly;he was married; and had

one child。  What is more strange yet; his wife was a daughter of

quiet; sober; unfantastic England:  she was much younger than

himself; she was fair and gentle; with a sweet English face; she

had married him from choice; and (will you believe it?) she yet

loved him。  How she came to marry him; or how this shy; unsocial;

wayward creature ever ventured to propose; I can only explain by

asking you to look round and explain first to ME how half the

husbands and half the wives you meet ever found a mate!  Yet; on

reflection; this union was not so extraordinary after all。  The

girl was a natural child of parents too noble ever to own and

claim her。  She was brought into Italy to learn the art by which

she was to live; for she had taste and voice; she was a dependant

and harshly treated; and poor Pisani was her master; and his

voice the only one she had heard from her cradle that seemed

without one tone that could scorn or chide。  And sowell; is the

rest natural?  Natural or not; they married。  This young wife

loved her husband; and young and gentle as she was; she might

almost be said to be the protector of the two。  From how many

disgraces with the despots of San Carlo and the Conservatorio had

her unknown officious mediation saved him!  In how many ailments

for his frame was weakhad she nursed and tended him!  Often;

in the dark nights; she would wait at the theatre with her

lantern to light him and her steady arm to lean on; otherwise; in

his abstract reveries; who knows bu

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