streets。　　Plague　on　her！but　patience；　patience！　such　is　the　lot
  of　virtue。　　Would　I　were　Robespierre　for　a　day！〃
  〃Cease　these　tirades！〃　exclaimed　Glyndon；　impatiently；　〃and　to
  the　point。　　What　would　you　advise？〃
  〃Leave　your　Fillide　behind。〃
  〃Leave　her　to　her　own　ignorance；　leave　her　unprotected　even　by
  the　mind；　leave　her　in　the　Saturnalia　of　Rape　and　Murder？　　No！　　I
  have　sinned　against　her　once。　　But　come　what　may；　I　will　not　so
  basely　desert　one　who；　with　all　her　errors；　trusted　her　fate　to
  my　love。〃
  〃You　deserted　her　at　Marseilles。〃
  〃True；　but　I　left　her　in　safety；　and　I　did　not　then　believe　her
  love　to　be　so　deep　and　faithful。　　I　left　her　gold；　and　I　imagined
  she　would　be　easily　consoled；　but　since　THEN　WE　HAVE　KNOWN　DANGER
  TOGETHER！　　And　now　to　leave　her　alone　to　that　danger　which　she
  would　never　have　incurred　but　for　devotion　to　me！no；　that　is
  impossible。　　A　project　occurs　to　me。　　Canst　thou　not　say　that
  thou　hast　a　sister；　a　relative；　or　a　benefactress；　whom　thou
  wouldst　save？　　Can　we　nottill　we　have　left　Francemake　Fillide
  believe　that　Viola　is　one　in　whom　THOU　only　art　interested；　and
  whom；　for　thy　sake　only；　I　permit　to　share　in　our　escape？〃
  〃Ha；　well　thought　of！certainly！〃
  〃I　will　then　appear　to　yield　to　Fillide's　wishes；　and　resign　the
  project；　which　she　so　resents；　of　saving　the　innocent　object　of
  her　frantic　jealousy。　　You；　meanwhile；　shall　yourself　entreat
  Fillide　to　intercede　with　me　to　extend　the　means　of　escape　to〃
  〃To　a　lady　（she　knows　I　have　no　sister）　who　has　aided　me　in　my
  distress。　　Yes；　I　will　manage　all；　never　fear。　　One　word　more；
  what　has　become　of　that　Zanoni？〃
  〃Talk　not　of　him；I　know　not。〃
  〃Does　he　love　this　girl　still？〃
  〃It　would　seem　so。　　She　is　his　wife；　the　mother　of　his　infant；
  who　is　with　her。〃
  〃Wife！mother！　　He　loves　her。　　Aha！　　And　why〃
  〃No　questions　now。　　I　will　go　and　prepare　Viola　for　the　flight；
  you；　meanwhile；　return　to　Fillide。〃
  〃But　the　address　of　the　Neapolitan？　　It　is　necessary　I　should
  know；　lest　Fillide　inquire。〃
  〃Rue　M　T；　No。　27。　　Adieu。〃
  Glyndon　seized　his　hat　and　hastened　from　the　house。
  Nicot；　left　alone；　seemed　for　a　few　moments　buried　in　thought。
  〃Oho；〃　he　muttered　to　himself；　〃can　I　not　turn　all　this　to　my
  account？　　Can　I　not　avenge　myself　on　thee；　Zanoni；　as　I　have　so
  often　sworn；through　thy　wife　and　child？　　Can　I　not　possess
  myself　of　thy　gold；　thy　passports；　and　thy　Fillide；　hot
  Englishman；　who　wouldst　humble　me　with　thy　loathed　benefits；　and
  who　hast　chucked　me　thine　alms　as　to　a　beggar？　　And　Fillide；　I
  love　her：　　and　thy　gold；　I　love　THAT　more！　　Puppets；　I　move　your
  strings！〃
  He　passed　slowly　into　the　chamber　where　Fillide　yet　sat；　with
  gloomy　thought　on　her　brow　and　tears　standing　in　her　dark　eyes。
  She　looked　up　eagerly　as　the　door　opened；　and　turned　from　the
  rugged　face　of　Nicot　with　an　impatient　movement　of
  disappointment。
  〃Glyndon；〃　said　the　painter；　drawing　a　chair　to　Fillide's；　〃has
  left　me　to　enliven　your　solitude；　fair　Italian。　　He　is　not
  jealous　of　the　ugly　Nicot！ha；　ha！yet　Nicot　loved　thee　well
  once；　when　his　fortunes　were　more　fair。　　But　enough　of　such　past
  follies。〃
  〃Your　friend；　then；　has　left　the　house。　　Whither？　　Ah；　you　look
  away；　you　falter；you　cannot　meet　my　eyes！　　Speak！　　I　implore；　I
  command　thee；　speak！〃
  〃Enfant！　　And　what　dost　thou　fear？〃
  〃FEAR！yes；　alas；　I　fear！〃　said　the　Italian；　and　her　whole　frame
  seemed　to　shrink　into　itself　as　she　fell　once　more　back　into　her
  seat。
  Then；　after　a　pause；　she　tossed　the　long　hair　from　her　eyes；　and；
  starting　up　abruptly；　paced　the　room　with　disordered　strides。　　At
  length　she　stopped　opposite　to　Nicot；　laid　her　hand　on　his　arm；
  drew　him　towards　an　escritoire；　which　she　unlocked；　and；　opening
  a　well；　pointed　to　the　gold　that　lay　within；　and　said；　〃Thou　art
  poor；thou　lovest　money；　take　what　thou　wilt；　but　undeceive　me。
  Who　is　this　woman　whom　thy　friend　visits；and　does　he　love　her？〃
  Nicot's　eyes　sparkled；　and　his　hands　opened　and　clenched；　and
  clenched　and　opened；　as　he　gazed　upon　the　coins。　　But　reluctantly
  resisting　the　impulse；　he　said；　with　an　affected　bitterness；
  〃Thinkest　thou　to　bribe　me？if　so；　it　cannot　be　with　gold。　　But
  what　if　he　does　love　a　rival；　what　if　he　betrays　thee；　what　if；
  wearied　by　thy　jealousies；　he　designs　in　his　flight　to　leave　thee
  behind；would　such　knowledge　make　thee　happier？〃
  〃Yes！〃　exclaimed　the　Italian；　fiercely；　〃yes；　for　it　would　be
  happiness　to　hate　and　to　be　avenged！　　Oh；　thou　knowest　not　how
  sweet　is　hatred　to　those　who　have　really　loved！〃
  〃But　wilt　thou　swear；　if　I　reveal　to　thee　the　secret；　that　thou
  wilt　not　betray　me；that　thou　wilt　not　fall；　as　women　do；　into
  weak　tears　and　fond　reproaches；　when　thy　betrayer　returns？〃
  〃Tears；　reproaches！　　Revenge　hides　itself　in　smiles！〃
  〃Thou　art　a　brave　creature！〃　said　Nicot；　almost　admiringly。　　〃One
  condition　more：　　thy　lover　designs　to　fly　with　his　new　love；　to
  leave　thee　to　thy　fate；　if　I　prove　this　to　thee；　and　if　I　give
  thee　revenge　against　thy　rival；　wilt　thou　fly　with　me？　　I　love
  thee！I　will　wed　thee！〃
  Fillide's　eyes　flashed　fire；　she　looked　at　him　with　unutterable
  disdain；　and　was　silent。
  Nicot　felt　he　had　gone　too　far；　and　with　that　knowledge　of　the
  evil　part　of　our　nature　which　his　own　heart　and　association　with
  crime　had　taught　him；　he　resolved　to　trust　the　rest　to　the
  passions　of　the　Italian；　when　raised　to　the　height　to　which　he
  was　prepared　to　lead　them。
  〃Pardon　me；〃　he　said；　〃my　love　made　me　too　presumptuous；　and　yet
  it　is　only　that　love；my　sympathy　for　thee；　beautiful　and
  betrayed；　that　can　induce　me　to　wrong；　with　my　revelations；　one
  whom　I　have　regarded　as　a　brother。　　I　can　depend　upon　thine　oath
  to　conceal　all　from　Glyndon？〃
  〃On　my　oath　and　my　wrongs　and　my　mountain　blood！〃
  〃Enough！　get　thy　hat　and　mantle；　and　follow　me。〃
  As　Fillide　left　the　room；　Nicot's　eyes　again　rested　on　the　gold；
  it　was　much；much　more　than　he　had　dared　to　hope　for；　and　as　he
  peered　into　the　well　and　opened　the　drawers；　he　perceived　a
  packet　of　letters　in　the　well…known　hand　of　Camille　Desmoulins。
  He　seizedhe　opened　the　packet；　his　looks　brightened　as　he
  glanced　over　a　few　sentences。　　〃This　would　give　fifty　Glyndons　to
  the　guillotine！〃　he　muttered；　and　thrust　the　packet　into　his
  bosom。
  O　artist！O　haunted　one！O　erring　genius！behold　the　two　worst
  foes；the　False　Ideal　that　knows　no　God；　and　the　False　Love　that
  burns　from　the　corruption　of　the　senses；　and　takes　no　lustre　from
  the　soul！
  CHAPTER　7。III。
  Liebe　sonnt　das　Reich　der　Nacht。
  〃Der　Triumph　der　Liebe。〃
  （Love　illumes　the　realm　of　Night。）
  Letter　from　Zanoni　to　Mejnour。
  Paris。
  Dost　thou　remember　in　the　old　time；　when　the　Beautiful　yet　dwelt
  in　Greece；　how　we　two；　in　the　vast　Athenian　Theatre；　witnessed
  the　birth　of　Words　as　undying　as　ourselves？　　Dost　thou　remember
  the　thrill　of　terror　that　ran　through　that　mighty　audience；　when
  the　wild　Cassandra　burst　from　her　awful　silence　to　shriek　to　her
  relentless　god！　　How　ghastly；　at　the　entrance　of　the　House　of
  Atreus；　about　to　become　her　tomb；　rang　out　her　exclamations　of
  foreboding　woe：　　〃Dwelling　abhorred　of　heaven！human　shamble…
  house　and　floor　blood…bespattered！〃　（Aesch。　〃Agam。〃　1098。）　　Dost
  thou　remember　how；　amidst　the　breathless　awe　of　those　assembled
  thousands；　I　drew　close　to　thee；　and　whispered；　〃Verily；　no
  prophet　like　the　poet！　　This　scene　of　fabled　horror　comes　to　me
  as　a　dream；　shadowing　forth　some　likeness　in　my　own　remoter
  future！〃　　As　I　enter　this　slaughter…house　that　scene　returns　to
  me；　and　I　hearken　to　the　voice　of　Cassandra　ringing　in　my　ears。
  A　solemn　and　warning　dread　gathers　round　me；　as　if　I　too　were
  come　to　find　a　grave；　and　〃the　Net　of　Hades〃　had　already
  entangled　me　in　its　web！　　What　dark　treasure…houses　of
  vicissitude　and　woe　are　our　memories　become！　　What　our　lives；　but
  the　chronicles　of　unrelenting　death！　　It　seems　to　me　as　yesterday
  when　I　stood　in　the　streets　of　this　city　of　the　Gaul；　as　they
  shone　with　plumed　chivalry；　and　the　air　rustled　with　silken
  braveries。　　Young　Louis；　the　monarch　and　the　lover；　was　victor　of
  the　Tournament　at　the　Carousel；　and　all　France　felt　herself
  splendid　in　the　splendour　of　her　gorgeous　chief！　　Now　there　is
  neither　throne　nor　altar；　and　what　is　in　their　stead？　　I　see　it
  yonderthe　GUILLOTINE！　　It　is　dismal　to　stand　amidst　the　ruins
  of　mouldering　cities；　to　startle　the　serpent　and　the　lizard
  amidst　the　wrecks　of　Persepolis　and　Thebes；　but　more　dismal　still
  to　stand　as　Ithe　stranger　from　Empires　that　have　ceased　to　be
  stand　now　amidst　the　yet　ghastlier　ruins　of　Law　and　Order；　the
  shattering　of　mankind　themselves！　　Yet　here；　even　here；　Love；　the
  Beautifier；　that　hath　led　my　steps；　can　walk　with　unshrinking
  hope　through　the　wilderness　of　Death。　　Strange　is　the　passion
  that　makes