the　occupation。　　And　doubtless　this　perpetual　strain　of　the
  faculties　was　the　object　of　Mejnour　in　works　that　did　not　seem
  exactly　pertinent　to　the　purposes　in　view。　　As　the　study　of　the
  elementary　mathematics；　for　example；　is　not　so　profitable　in　the
  solving　of　problems；　useless　in　our　after…callings；　as　it　is
  serviceable　in　training　the　intellect　to　the　comprehension　and
  analysis　of　general　truths。
  But　in　less　than　half　the　time　which　Mejnour　had　stated　for　the
  duration　of　his　absence；　all　that　the　mystic　had　appointed　to　his
  toils　was　completed　by　the　pupil；　and　then　his　mind；　thus
  relieved　from　the　drudgery　and　mechanism　of　employment；　once　more
  sought　occupation　in　dim　conjecture　and　restless　fancies。　　His
  inquisitive　and　rash　nature　grew　excited　by　the　prohibition　of
  Mejnour；　and　he　found　himself　gazing　too　often；　with　perturbed
  and　daring　curiosity；　upon　the　key　of　the　forbidden　chamber。　　He
  began　to　feel　indignant　at　a　trial　of　constancy　which　he　deemed
  frivolous　and　puerile。　　What　nursery　tales　of　Bluebeard　and　his
  closet　were　revived　to　daunt　and　terrify　him！　　How　could　the　mere
  walls　of　a　chamber；　in　which　he　had　so　often　securely　pursued　his
  labours；　start　into　living　danger？　　If　haunted；　it　could　be　but
  by　those　delusions　which　Mejnour　had　taught　him　to　despise；a
  shadowy　lion；a　chemical　phantasm！　　Tush！　he　lost　half　his　awe
  of　Mejnour；　when　he　thought　that　by　such　tricks　the　sage　could
  practise　upon　the　very　intellect　he　had　awakened　and　instructed！
  Still　he　resisted　the　impulses　of　his　curiosity　and　his　pride；
  and；　to　escape　from　their　dictation；　he　took　long　rambles　on　the
  hills；　or　amidst　the　valleys　that　surrounded　the　castle；seeking
  by　bodily　fatigue　to　subdue　the　unreposing　mind。　　One　day
  suddenly　emerging　from　a　dark　ravine；　he　came　upon　one　of　those
  Italian　scenes　of　rural　festivity　and　mirth　in　which　the　classic
  age　appears　to　revive。　　It　was　a　festival；　partly　agricultural；
  partly　religious；　held　yearly　by　the　peasants　of　that　district。
  Assembled　at　the　outskirts　of　a　village；　animated　crowds；　just
  returned　from　a　procession　to　a　neighbouring　chapel；　were　now
  forming　themselves　into　groups：　　the　old　to　taste　the　vintage；
  the　young　to　dance；all　to　be　gay　and　happy。　　This　sudden
  picture　of　easy　joy　and　careless　ignorance；　contrasting　so
  forcibly　with　the　intense　studies　and　that　parching　desire　for
  wisdom　which　had　so　long　made　up　his　own　life；　and　burned　at　his
  own　heart；　sensibly　affected　Glyndon。　　As　he　stood　aloof　and
  gazing　on　them；　the　young　man　felt　once　more　that　he　was　young。
  The　memory　of　all　he　had　been　content　to　sacrifice　spoke　to　him
  like　the　sharp　voice　of　remorse。　　The　flitting　forms　of　the　women
  in　their　picturesque　attire；　their　happy　laughter　ringing　through
  the　cool；　still　air　of　the　autumn　noon；　brought　back　to　the
  heart；　or　rather　perhaps　to　the　senses；　the　images　of　his　past
  time；　the　〃golden　shepherd　hours；〃　when　to　live　was　but　to　enjoy。
  He　approached　nearer　and　nearer　to　the　scene；　and　suddenly　a
  noisy　group　swept　round　him；　and　Maestro　Paolo；　tapping　him
  familiarly　on　the　shoulder；　exclaimed　in　a　hearty　voice；
  〃Welcome；　Excellency！we　are　rejoiced　to　see　you　amongst　us。〃
  Glyndon　was　about　to　reply　to　this　salutation；　when　his　eyes
  rested　upon　the　face　of　a　young　girl　leaning　on　Paolo's　arm；　of　a
  beauty　so　attractive　that　his　colour　rose　and　his　heart　beat　as
  he　encountered　her　gaze。　　Her　eyes　sparkled　with　a　roguish　and
  petulant　mirth；　her　parted　lips　showed　teeth　like　pearls；　as　if
  impatient　at　the　pause　of　her　companion　from　the　revel　of　the
  rest；　her　little　foot　beat　the　ground　to　a　measure　that　she
  half…hummed；　half…chanted。　　Paolo　laughed　as　he　saw　the　effect
  the　girl　had　produced　upon　the　young　foreigner。
  〃Will　you　not　dance；　Excellency？　　Come；　lay　aside　your　greatness；
  and　be　merry；　like　us　poor　devils。　　See　how　our　pretty　Fillide　is
  longing　for　a　partner。　　Take　compassion　on　her。〃
  Fillide　pouted　at　this　speech；　and；　disengaging　her　arm　from
  Paolo's；　turned　away；　but　threw　over　her　shoulder　a　glance　half
  inviting；　half　defying。　　Glyndon；　almost　involuntarily；　advanced
  to　her；　and　addressed　her。
  Oh；　yes；　he　addresses　her！　　She　looks　down；　and　smiles。　　Paolo
  leaves　them　to　themselves；　sauntering　off　with　a　devil…me…carish
  air。　　Fillide　speaks　now；　and　looks　up　at　the　scholar's　face　with
  arch　invitation。　　He　shakes　his　head；　Fillide　laughs；　and　her
  laugh　is　silvery。　　She　points　to　a　gay　mountaineer；　who　is
  tripping　up　to　her　merrily。　　Why　does　Glyndon　feel　jealous？　　Why；
  when　she　speaks　again；　does　he　shake　his　head　no　more？　　He　offers
  his　hand；　Fillide　blushes；　and　takes　it　with　a　demure　coquetry。
  What！　is　it　so；　indeed！　　They　whirl　into　the　noisy　circle　of　the
  revellers。　　Ha！　ha！　is　not　this　better　than　distilling　herbs；　and
  breaking　thy　brains　on　Pythagorean　numbers？　　How　lightly　Fillide
  bounds　along！　　How　her　lithesome　waist　supples　itself　to　thy
  circling　arm！　　Tara…ra…tara；　ta…tara；　rara…ra！　　What　the　devil　is
  in　the　measure　that　it　makes　the　blood　course　like　quicksilver
  through　the　veins？　　Was　there　ever　a　pair　of　eyes　like　Fillide's？
  Nothing　of　the　cold　stars　there！　　Yet　how　they　twinkle　and　laugh
  at　thee！　　And　that　rosy；　pursed…up　mouth　that　will　answer　so
  sparingly　to　thy　flatteries；　as　if　words　were　a　waste　of　time；
  and　kisses　were　their　proper　language。　　Oh；　pupil　of　Mejnour！
  Oh；　would…be　Rosicrucian；　Platonist；　Magian；　I　know　not　what！　　I
  am　ashamed　of　thee！　　What；　in　the　names　of　Averroes　and　Burri　and
  Agrippa　and　Hermes　have　become　of　thy　austere　contemplations？
  Was　it　for　this　thou　didst　resign　Viola？　　I　don't　think　thou　hast
  the　smallest　recollection　of　the　elixir　or　the　Cabala。　　Take
  care！　　What　are　you　about；　sir？　　Why　do　you　clasp　that　small　hand
  locked　within　your　own？　　Why　do　youTara…rara　tara…ra　tara…rara…
  ra；　rarara；　ta…ra；　a…ra！　　Keep　your　eyes　off　those　slender　ankles
  and　that　crimson　bodice！　　Tara…rara…ra！　　There　they　go　again！
  And　now　they　rest　under　the　broad　trees。　　The　revel　has　whirled
  away　from　them。　　They　hearor　do　they　not　hearthe　laughter　at
  the　distance？　　They　seeor　if　they　have　their　eyes　about　them；
  they　SHOULD　seecouple　after　couple　gliding　by；　love…talking　and
  love…looking。　　But　I　will　lay　a　wager；　as　they　sit　under　that
  tree；　and　the　round　sun　goes　down　behind　the　mountains；　that　they
  see　or　hear　very　little　except　themselves。
  〃Hollo；　Signor　Excellency！　and　how　does　your　partner　please　you？
  Come　and　join　our　feast；　loiterers；　one　dances　more　merrily　after
  wine。〃
  Down　goes　the　round　sun；　up　comes　the　autumn　moon。　　Tara；　tara；
  rarara；　rarara；　tarara…ra！　　Dancing　again；　is　it　a　dance；　or　some
  movement　gayer；　noisier；　wilder　still？　　How　they　glance　and　gleam
  through　the　night　shadows；　those　flitting　forms！　　What
  confusion！what　order！　　Ha；　that　is　the　Tarantula　dance；　Maestro
  Paolo　foots　it　bravely！　　Diavolo；　what　fury！　the　Tarantula　has
  stung　them　all。　　Dance　or　die；　it　is　fury；the　Corybantes；　the
  Maenads；　theHo；　ho！　more　wine！　the　Sabbat　of　the　Witches　at
  Benevento　is　a　joke　to　this！　　From　cloud　to　cloud　wanders　the
  moon；now　shining；　now　lost。　　Dimness　while　the　maiden　blushes；
  light　when　the　maiden　smiles。
  〃Fillide；　thou　art　an　enchantress！〃
  〃Buona　notte；　Excellency；　you　will　see　me　again！〃
  〃Ah；　young　man；〃　said　an　old；　decrepit；　hollow…eyed　octogenarian；
  leaning　on　his　staff；　〃make　the　best　of　your　youth。　　I；　too；　once
  had　a　Fillide！　　I　was　handsomer　than　you　then！　　Alas！　if　we　could
  be　always　young！〃
  〃Always　young！〃　Glyndon　started；　as　he　turned　his　gaze　from　the
  fresh；　fair；　rosy　face　of　the　girl；　and　saw　the　eyes　dropping
  rheum；　the　yellow　wrinkled　skin；　the　tottering　frame　of　the　old
  man。
  〃Ha；　ha！〃　said　the　decrepit　creature；　hobbling　near　to　him；　and
  with　a　malicious　laugh。　　〃Yet　I；　too；　was　young　once！　　Give　me　a
  baioccho　for　a　glass　of　aqua　vitae！〃
  Tara；　rara；　ra…rara；　tara；　rara…ra！　　There　dances　Youth！　　Wrap
  thy　rags　round　thee；　and　totter　off；　Old　Age！
  CHAPTER　4。VI。
  Whilest　Calidore　does　follow　that　faire　mayd；
  Unmindful　of　his　vow　and　high　beheast
  Which　by　the　Faerie　Queene　was　on　him　layd。
  Spenser；　〃Faerie　Queene；〃　cant。　x。　s。　1。
  It　was　that　grey；　indistinct；　struggling　interval　between　the
  night　and　the　dawn；　when　Clarence　stood　once　more　in　his　chamber。
  The　abstruse　calculations　lying　on　his　table　caught　his　eye；　and
  filled　him　with　a　sentiment　of　weariness　and　distaste。　　But
  〃Alas；　if　we　could　be　always　young！　　Oh；　thou　horrid　spectre　of
  the　old；　rheum…eyed　man！　　What　apparition　can　the　mystic　chamber
  shadow　forth　more　ugly　and　more　hateful　than　thou？　　Oh；　yes；　if
  we　could　be　always　young！　　But　not　＇thinks　the　neophyte　now＇not
  to　labour　forever　at　these　crabbed　figures　and　these　cold
  compounds　of　herbs　and　drugs。　　No；　but　to　enjoy；　to　love；　to
  revel！　　What　should　be　the　companion　of　youth　but　pleasure？　　And
  the　gift　of　eternal　yout