"Indifferent to me! No; but I dare not yet say that I love thee.""Then what matters my fate?" said Viola, turning pale, and shrinking from his side; "leave me,--I fear no danger.My life, and therefore my honour, is in mine own hands.""Be not so mad," said Zanoni."Hark! do you hear the neigh of my steed?--it is an alarm that warns us of the approaching peril.
Haste, or you are lost!"
"Why dost thou care for me?" said the girl, bitterly."Thou hast read my heart; thou knowest that thou art become the lord of my destiny.But to be bound beneath the weight of a cold obligation; to be the beggar on the eyes of indifference; to cast myself on one who loves me not,--THAT were indeed the vilest sin of my ***.Ah, Zanoni, rather let me die!"She had thrown back her clustering hair from her face while she spoke; and as she now stood, with her arms drooping mournfully, and her hands clasped together with the proud bitterness of her wayward spirit, giving new zest and charm to her singular beauty, it was impossible to conceive a sight more irresistible to the eye and the heart.
"Tempt me not to thine own danger,--perhaps destruction!"exclaimed Zanoni, in faltering accents."Thou canst not dream of what thou wouldst demand,--come!" and, advancing, he wound his arm round her waist."Come, Viola; believe at least in my friendship, my honour, my protection--""And not thy love," said the Italian, turning on him her reproachful eyes.Those eyes met his, and he could not withdraw from the charm of their gaze.He felt her heart throbbing beneath his own; her breath came warm upon his cheek.He trembled,--HE! the lofty, the mysterious Zanoni, who seemed to stand aloof from his race.With a deep and burning sigh, he murmured, "Viola, I love thee! Oh!" he continued passionately, and, releasing his hold, he threw himself abruptly at her feet, "I no more command,--as woman should be wooed, I woo thee.From the first glance of those eyes, from the first sound of thy voice, thou becamest too fatally dear to me.Thou speakest of fascination,--it lives and it breathes in thee! I fled from Naples to fly from thy presence,--it pursued me.Months, years passed, and thy sweet face still shone upon my heart.Ireturned, because I pictured thee alone and sorrowful in the world, and knew that dangers, from which I might save thee, were gathering near thee and around.Beautiful Soul! whose leaves Ihave read with reverence, it was for thy sake, thine alone, that I would have given thee to one who might make thee happier on earth than I can.Viola! Viola! thou knowest not--never canst thou know--how dear thou art to me!"It is in vain to seek for words to describe the delight--the proud, the full, the complete, and the entire delight--that filled the heart of the Neapolitan.He whom she had considered too lofty even for love,--more humble to her than those she had half-despised! She was silent, but her eyes spoke to him; and then slowly, as aware, at last, that the human love had advanced on the ideal, she shrank into the terrors of a modest and virtuous nature.She did not dare,--she did not dream to ask him the question she had so fearlessly made to Glyndon; but she felt a sudden coldness,--a sense that a barrier was yet between love and love."Oh, Zanoni!" she murmured, with downcast eyes, "ask me not to fly with thee; tempt me not to my shame.Thou wouldst protect me from others.Oh, protect me from thyself!""Poor orphan!" said he, tenderly, "and canst thou think that Iask from thee one sacrifice,--still less the greatest that woman can give to love? As my wife I woo thee, and by every tie, and by every vow that can hallow and endear affection.Alas! they have belied love to thee indeed, if thou dost not know the religion that belongs to it! They who truly love would seek, for the treasure they obtain, every bond that can make it lasting and secure.Viola, weep not, unless thou givest me the holy right to kiss away thy tears!"And that beautiful face, no more averted, drooped upon his bosom;and as he bent down, his lips sought the rosy mouth: a long and burning kiss,--danger, life, the world was forgotten! Suddenly Zanoni tore himself from her.
"Hearest thou the wind that sighs, and dies away? As that wind, my power to preserve thee, to guard thee, to foresee the storm in thy skies, is gone.No matter.Haste, haste; and may love supply the loss of all that it has dared to sacrifice! Come."Viola hesitated no more.She threw her mantle over her shoulders, and gathered up her dishevelled hair; a moment, and she was prepared, when a sudden crash was heard below.
"Too late!--fool that I was, too late!" cried Zanoni, in a sharp tone of agony, as he hurried to the door.He opened it, only to be borne back by the press of armed men.The room literally swarmed with the followers of the ravisher, masked, and armed to the teeth.
Viola was already in the grasp of two of the myrmidons.Her shriek smote the ear of Zanoni.He sprang forward; and Viola heard his wild cry in a foreign tongue.She saw the blades of the ruffians pointed at his breast! She lost her senses; and when she recovered, she found herself gagged, and in a carriage that was driven rapidly, by the side of a masked and motionless figure.The carriage stopped at the portals of a gloomy mansion.
The gates opened noiselessly; a broad flight of steps, brilliantly illumined, was before her.She was in the palace of the Prince di --.
