zanoni-第8节

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that　which　is　known　to　genius　when　at　last　it　bursts　from　its

hidden　cavern　into　light　and　fame！



He　did　not　speak；　he　did　not　move；　he　stood　transfixed；

breathless；　the　tears　rolling　down　his　cheeks；　only　from　time　to

time　his　hands　still　wandered　about；mechanically　they　sought

for　the　faithful　instrument；　why　was　it　not　there　to　share　his

triumph？



At　last　the　curtain　fell；　but　on　such　a　storm　and　diapason　of

applause！　　Up　rose　the　audience　as　one　man；　as　with　one　voice

that　dear　name　was　shouted。　　She　came　on；　trembling；　pale；　and　in

the　whole　crowd　saw　but　her　father's　face。　　The　audience　followed

those　moistened　eyes；　they　recognised　with　a　thrill　the

daughter's　impulse　and　her　meaning。　　The　good　old　Cardinal　drew

him　gently　forward。　　Wild　musician；　thy　daughter　has　given　thee

back　more　than　the　life　thou　gavest！



〃My　poor　violin！〃　said　he；　wiping　his　eyes；　〃they　will　never　hiss

thee　again　now！〃







CHAPTER　1。III。



Fra　si　contrarie　tempre　in　ghiaccio　e　in　foco；

In　riso　e　in　pianto；　e　fra　paura　e　speme

L'ingannatrice　Donna

〃Gerusal。　Lib。；〃　cant。　iv。　xciv。



（Between　such　contrarious　mixtures　of　ice　and　fire；　laughter　and

tears；fear　and　hope；　the　deceiving　dame。）



Now　notwithstanding　the　triumph　both　of　the　singer　and　the　opera；

there　had　been　one　moment　in　the　first　act；　and；　consequently；

BEFORE　the　arrival　of　Pisani；　when　the　scale　seemed　more　than

doubtful。　　It　was　in　a　chorus　replete　with　all　the　peculiarities

of　the　composer。　　And　when　the　Maelstrom　of　Capricci　whirled　and

foamed；　and　tore　ear　and　sense　through　every　variety　of　sound；

the　audience　simultaneously　recognised　the　hand　of　Pisani。　　A

title　had　been　given　to　the　opera　which　had　hitherto　prevented

all　suspicion　of　its　parentage；　and　the　overture　and　opening；　in

which　the　music　had　been　regular　and　sweet；　had　led　the　audience

to　fancy　they　detected　the　genius　of　their　favourite　Paisiello。

Long　accustomed　to　ridicule　and　almost　to　despise　the　pretensions

of　Pisani　as　a　composer；　they　now　felt　as　if　they　had　been　unduly

cheated　into　the　applause　with　which　they　had　hailed　the　overture

and　the　commencing　scenas。　　An　ominous　buzz　circulated　round　the

house：　　the　singers；　the　orchestra；electrically　sensitive　to

the　impression　of　the　audience；grew；　themselves；　agitated　and

dismayed；　and　failed　in　the　energy　and　precision　which　could

alone　carry　off　the　grotesqueness　of　the　music。



There　are　always　in　every　theatre　many　rivals　to　a　new　author　and

a　new　performer；a　party　impotent　while　all　goes　well；　but　a

dangerous　ambush　the　instant　some　accident　throws　into　confusion

the　march　of　success。　　A　hiss　arose；　it　was　partial；　it　is　true；

but　the　significant　silence　of　all　applause　seemed　to　forebode

the　coming　moment　when　the　displeasure　would　grow　contagious。　　It

was　the　breath　that　stirred　the　impending　avalanche。　　At　that

critical　moment　Viola；　the　Siren　queen；　emerged　for　the　first

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