CHAPTER 3.III.
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes.
Shakespeare.
The next day, at noon, Zanoni visited Viola; and the next day and
the next and again the next,--days that to her seemed like a
special time set apart from the rest of life. And yet he never
spoke to her in the language of flattery, and almost of
adoration, to which she had been accustomed. Perhaps his very
coldness, so gentle as it was, assisted to this mysterious charm.
He talked to her much of her past life, and she was scarcely
surprised (she now never thought of TERROR) to perceive how much
of that past seemed known to him.
He made her speak to him of her father; he made her recall some
of the airs of Pisani's wild music. And those airs seemed to
charm and lull him into reverie.
"As music was to the musician," said he, "may science be to the
wise. Your father looked abroad in the world; all was discord to
the fine sympathies that he felt with the harmonies that daily
and nightly float to the throne of Heaven. Life, with its noisy
ambition and its mean passions, is so poor and base! Out of his
soul he created the life and the world for which his soul was
fitted. Viola, thou art the daughter of that life, and wilt be
the denizen of that world."
In his earlier visits he did not speak of Glyndon. The day soon
came on which he renewed the subject. And so trustful, obedient,
and entire was the allegiance that Viola now owned to his
dominion, that, unwelcome as that subject was, she restrained her
heart, and listened to him in silence.
At last he said, "Thou hast promised thou wilt obey my counsels,
and if, Viola, I should ask thee, nay adjure, to accept this
stranger's hand, and share his fate, should he offer to thee such
a lot,--wouldst thou refuse?"
And then she pressed back the tears that gushed to her eyes; and
with a strange pleasure in the midst of pain,--the pleasure of
one who sacrifices heart itself to the one who commands that
heart,--she answered falteringly, "If thou CANST ordain it,
why--"
"Speak on."
"Dispose of me as thou wilt!"
Zanoni stood in silence for some moments: he saw the struggle
which the girl thought she concealed so well; he made an
involuntary movement towards her, and pressed her hand to his
lips; it was the first time he had ever departed even so far from
a certain austerity which perhaps made her fear him and her own
thoughts the less.
"Viola," said he, and his voice trembled, "the danger that I can
avert no more, if thou linger still in Naples, comes hourly near
and near to thee! On the third day from this thy fate must be
decided. I accept thy promise. Before the last hour of that
day, come what may, I shall see thee again, HERE, at thine own
house. Till then, farewell!"
