zanoni-第7章

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time　from　her　ocean　cave。　　As　she　came　forward　to　the　lamps；　the

novelty　of　her　situation；　the　chilling　apathy　of　the　audience；

which　even　the　sight　of　so　singular　a　beauty　did　not　at　the　first

arouse；the　whispers　of　the　malignant　singers　on　the　stage；　the

glare　of　the　lights；　and　morefar　more　than　the　restthat

recent　hiss；　which　had　reached　her　in　her　concealment；　all　froze

up　her　faculties　and　suspended　her　voice。　　And；　instead　of　the

grand　invocation　into　which　she　ought　rapidly　to　have　burst；　the

regal　Siren；　retransformed　into　the　trembling　girl；　stood　pale

and　mute　before　the　stern；　cold　array　of　those　countless　eyes。



At　that　instant；　and　when　consciousness　itself　seemed　about　to

fail　her；　as　she　turned　a　timid　beseeching　glance　around　the

still　multitude；　she　perceived；　in　a　box　near　the　stage；　a

countenance　which　at　once；　and　like　magic；　produced　on　her　mind

an　effect　never　to　be　analysed　nor　forgotten。　　It　was　one　that

awakened　an　indistinct；　haunting　reminiscence；　as　if　she　had　seen

it　in　those　day…dreams　she　had　been　so　wont　from　infancy　to

indulge。　　She　could　not　withdraw　her　gaze　from　that　face；　and　as

she　gazed；　the　awe　and　coldness　that　had　before　seized　her；

vanished　like　a　mist　from　before　the　sun。



In　the　dark　splendour　of　the　eyes　that　met　her　own　there　was

indeed　so　much　of　gentle　encouragement；　of　benign　and

compassionate　admiration；so　much　that　warmed；　and　animated；　and

nerved；that　any　one；　actor　or　orator；　who　has　ever　observed　the

effect　that　a　single　earnest　and　kindly　look　in　the　crowd　that　is

to　be　addressed　and　won；　will　produce　upon　his　mind；　may　readily

account　for　the　sudden　and　inspiriting　influence　which　the　eye

and　smile　of　the　stranger　exercised　on　the　debutante。



And　while　yet　she　gazed；　and　the　glow　returned　to　her　heart；　the

stranger　half　rose；　as　if　to　recall　the　audience　to　a　sense　of

the　courtesy　due　to　one　so　fair　and　young；　and　the　instant　his

voice　gave　the　signal；　the　audience　followed　it　by　a　burst　of

generous　applause。　　For　this　stranger　himself　was　a　marked

personage；　and　his　recent　arrival　at　Naples　had　divided　with　the

new　opera　the　gossip　of　the　city。　　And　then　as　the　applause

ceased；　clear；　full；　and　freed　from　every　fetter；　like　a　spirit

from　the　clay；　the　Siren's　voice　poured　forth　its　entrancing

music。　　From　that　time　Viola　forgot　the　crowd；　the　hazard；　the

whole　world；except　the　fairy　one　over　with　she　presided。　　It

seemed　that　the　stranger's　presence　only　served　still　more　to

heighten　that　delusion；　in　which　the　artist　sees　no　creation

without　the　circle　of　his　art；　she　felt　as　if　that　serene　brow；

and　those　brilliant　eyes；　inspired　her　with　powers　never　known

before：　　and；　as　if　searching　for　a　language　to　express　the

strange　sensations　occasioned　by　his　presence；　that　presence

itself　whispered　to　her　the　melody　and　the　song。



Only　when　all　was　over；　and　she　saw　her　father　and　felt　his　joy；

did　this　wild　spell　vanish　before　the　sweeter　one　of　the

household　and　filial　love。　　Yet　again；　as　she　turned　from　the

stage；　she　looked　back　involuntarily；　and　the　stranger's　calm　and

half…melancholy　smile　sank　into　her　heart；to　live　there；　to　be

recalled　with　confused　memories；　half　of　pleasure；　and　half　of

pain。



Pass　over　the　congratulations　of　the　good　Cardinal…Virtuoso；

astonished　at　finding　himself　and　all　Naples　had　been　hitherto　in

the　wrong　on　a　subject　of　taste；still　more　astonished　at

finding　himself　and　all　Naples　combining　to　confess　it；　pass　over

the　whispered　ecstasies　of　admiration　which　buzzed　in　the

singer's　ear；　as　once　more；　in　her　modest　veil　and　quiet　dress；

she　escaped　from　the　crowd　of　gallants　that　choked　up　every

avenue　behind　the　scenes；　pass　over　the　sweet　embrace　of　father

and　child；　returning　through　the　starlit　streets　and　along　the

deserted　Chiaja　in　the　Cardinal's　carriage；　never　pause　now　to

note　the　tears　and　ejaculations　of　the　good；　simple…hearted

mother；see　them　returned；　see　the　well…known　room；　venimus　ad

larem　nostrum　（We　come　to　our　own　house。）；　see　old　Gionetta

bustling　at　the　supper；　and　hear　Pisani；　as　he　rouses　the

barbiton　from　its　case；　communicating　all　that　has　happened　to

the　intelligent　Familiar；　hark　to　the　mother's　merry；　low；

English　laugh。　　Why；　Viola；　strange　child；　sittest　thou　apart；

thy　face　leaning　on　thy　fair　hands；　thine　eyes　fixed　on　space？

Up；　rouse　thee！　　Every　dimple　on　the　cheek　of　home　must　smile

to…night。　　（〃Ridete　quidquid　est　domi　cachinnorum。〃　　Catull。　〃ad

Sirm。　Penin。〃）



And　a　happy　reunion　it　was　round　that　humble　table：　　a　feast

Lucullus　might　have　envied　in　his　Hall　of　Apollo；　in　the　dried

grapes；　and　the　dainty　sardines；　and　the　luxurious　polenta；　and

the　old　lacrima　a　present　from　the　good　Cardinal。　　The　barbiton；

placed　on　a　chaira　tall；　high…backed　chairbeside　the

musician；　seemed　to　take　a　part　in　the　festive　meal。　　Its　honest

varnished　face　glowed　in　the　light　of　the　lamp；　and　there　was　an

impish；　sly　demureness　in　its　very　silence；　as　its　master；

between　every　mouthful；　turned　to　talk　to　it　of　something　he　had

forgotten　to　relate　before。　　The　good　wife　looked　on

affectionately；　and　could　not　eat　for　joy；　but　suddenly　she　rose；

and　placed　on　the　artist's　temples　a　laurel　wreath；　which　she　had

woven　beforehand　in　fond　anticipation；　and　Viola；　on　the　other

side　her　brother；　the　barbiton；　rearranged　the　chaplet；　and；

smoothing　back　her　father's　hair；　whispered；　〃Caro　Padre；　you

will　not　let　HIM　scold　me　again！〃



Then　poor　Pisani；　rather　distracted　between　the　two；　and　excited

both　by　the　lacrima　and　his　triumph；　turned　to　the　younger　child

with　so　naive　and　grotesque　a　pride；　〃I　don't　know　which　to　thank

the　most。　　You　give　me　so　much　joy；　child；I　am　so　proud　of　thee

and　myself。　　But　he　and　I；　poor　fellow；　have　been　so　often

unhappy　together！〃



Viola's　sleep　was　broken；that　was　natural。　　The　intoxication　of

vanity　and　triumph；　the　happiness　in　the　happiness　she　had

caused；　all　this　was　better　than　sleep。　　But　still　from　all　this；

again　and　again　her　thoughts　flew　to　those　haunting　eyes；　to　that

smile　with　which　forever　the　memory　of　the　triumph；　of　the

happiness；　was　to　be　united。　　Her　feelings；　like　her　own

character；　were　strange　and　peculiar。　　They　were　not　those　of　a

girl　whose　heart；　for　the　first　time　reached　through　the　eye；

sighs　its　natural　and　native　language　of　first　love。　　It　was　not

so　much　admiration；　though　the　face　that　reflected　itself　on

every　wave　of　her　restless　fancies　was　of　the　rarest　order　of

majesty　and　beauty；　nor　a　pleased　and　enamoured　recollection　that

the　sight　of　this　stranger　had　bequeathed：　　it　was　a　human

sentiment　of　gratitude　and　delight；　mixed　with　something　more

mysterious；　of　fear　and　awe。　　Certainly　she　had　seen　before　those

features；　but　when　and　how？　　Only　when　her　thoughts　had　sought　to

shape　out　her　future；　and　when；　in　spite　of　all　the　attempts　to

vision　forth　a　fate　of　flowers　and　sunshine；　a　dark　and　chill

foreboding　made　her　recoil　back　into　her　deepest　self。　　It　was　a

something　found　that　had　long　been　sought　for　by　a　thousand

restless　yearnings　and　vague　desires；　less　of　the　heart　than

mind；　not　as　when　youth　discovers　the　one　to　be　beloved；　but

rather　as　when　the　student；　long　wandering　after　the　clew　to　some

truth　in　science；　sees　it　glimmer　dimly　before　him；　to　beckon；　to

recede；　to　allure；　and　to　wane　again。　　She　fell　at　last　into

unquiet　slumber；　vexed　by　deformed；　fleeting；　shapeless　phantoms；

and；　waking；　as　the　sun；　through　a　veil　of　hazy　cloud；　glinted

with　a　sickly　ray　across　the　casement；　she　heard　her　father

settled　back　betimes　to　his　one　pursuit；　and　calling　forth　from

his　Familiar　a　low　mournful　strain；　like　a　dirge　over　the　dead。



〃And　why；〃　she　asked；　when　she　descended　to　the　room　below；

〃why；　my　father；　was　your　inspiration　so　sad；　after　the　joy　of

last　night？〃



〃I　know　not；　child。　　I　meant　to　be　merry；　and　compose　an　air　in

honour　of　thee；　but　he　is　an　obstinate　fellow；　this；and　he

would　have　it　so。〃





CHAPTER　1。IV。



E　cosi　i　pigri　e　timidi　desiri

Sprona。

〃Gerusal。　Lib。；〃　cant。　iv。　lxxxviii。



（And　thus　the　slow　and　timid　passions　urged。）



It　was　the　custom　of　Pisani；　except　when　the　duties　of　his

profession　made　special　demand　on　his　time；　to　devote　a　certain

portion　of　the　mid…day　to　sleep；a　habit　not　so　much　a　luxury　as

a　necessity　to　a　man　who　slept　very　little　during　the　night。　　In

fact；　whether　to　compose　or　to　practice；　the　hours　of　noon　were

precisely　those　in　which　Pisani　could　not　have　been　active　if　he

would。　　His　genius　resembled　those　fountains　full　at　dawn　and

evening；　overflowing　at　night；　and　perfectly　dry　at　the　meridian。

　During　this　time；　consecrated　by　her　husband　to　repose；　the

signora　generally　stole　out　to　make　the　purchases　necessary　for

the　little　household；　or　to　enjoy　（as　what　woman　does　not？）　a

little　relaxation　in　gossip　with　some　of　her　own　sex。　　And　the

day　following　this　brilliant　triumph；　how　many　congratulations

would　she　have　to　receive！



At　these　times　it　was　Viola's　habit　to　seat　herself　without　the

door　of　the　house；　under　an　awning　which　sheltered　from　the　sun

without　obstructing　the　view；　and　there　now；　with　the　prompt…book

on　her　knee；　on　which　her　eye　roves　listlessly　from　time　to　time；

you　may　behold　her；　the　vine…leaves　clustering　from　their　arching

trellis　over　the　door　behind；　and　the　lazy　white…sailed　boats

skimming　along　the　sea　that　stretched　before。



As　she　thus　sat；　rather　in　reverie　than　thought；　a　man　coming

from　the　direction　of　Posilipo；　with　a　slow　step　and　downcast

eyes；　passed　close　by　the　house；　and　Viola；　looking　up　abruptly；

started　in　a　kind　of　terror　as　she　recognised　the　stranger。　　She

uttered　an　involuntary　exclamation；　and　the　cavalier　turning；

saw；　and　paused。



He　stood　a　moment　or　two　between　her　and　the　sunlit　ocean；

contemplating　in　a　silence　too　serious　and　gentle　for　the

boldness　of　gallantry；　the　blushing　face　and　the　young　slight

form　before　him；　at　length　he　spoke。



〃Are　you　happy；　my　child；〃　he　said；　in　almost　a　paternal　tone；

〃at　the　career　that　lies　before　you？　　From　sixteen　to　thirty；　the

music　in　the　breath　of　applause　is　sweeter　than　all　the　music

your　voice　can　utter！〃



〃I　know　not；〃　replied　Viola；　falteringly；　but　encouraged　by　the

liquid　softness　of　the　accents　that　addressed　her；〃I　know　not

whether　I　am　happy　now；　but　I　was　last　night。　　And　I　feel；　too；

Excellency；　that　I　have　you　to　thank；　though；　perhaps；　you　scarce

know　why！〃



〃You　deceive　yourself；〃　said　the　cavalier；　with　a　smile。　　〃I　am

aware　that　I　assisted　to　your　merited　success；　and　it　is　you　who

scarce　know　how。　　The　WHY　I　will　tell　you：　　because　I　saw　in　your

heart　a　nobler　ambition　than　that　of　the　woman's　vanity；　it　was

the　daughter　that　interested　me。　　Perhaps　you　would　rather　I

should　have　admired　the　singe