〃Cy…gist　Alexandre；　moyne　de　ceste　eglise；　qui　fist　mettre　en　argent　le　menton　de　Saint…Vincent　et　de　Saint…Amant　et　le　pie　des　Innocens；　qui　toujours　en　son　vivant　fut　preud'homme　et　vayllant。　　Priez　pour　l'ame　de　lui。〃
  I　wiped　gently　away　with　my　handkerchief　the　dust　covering　that　gravestone；　I　could　have　kissed　it。
  〃It　is　he！　it　is　Alexander！〃　I　cried　out；　and　from　the　height　of　the　vaults　the　name　fell　back　upon　me　with　a　clang；　as　if　broken。
  The　silent　severity　of　the　beadle；　whom　I　saw　advancing　towards　me；　made　me　ashamed　of　my　enthusiasm；　and　I　fled　between　the　two　holy　water　sprinklers　with　which　tow　rival　〃rats　d'eglise〃　seemed　desirous　of　barring　my　way。
  At　all　events　it　was　certainly　my　own　Alexander！　there　could　be　no　more　doubt　possible；　the　translator　of　the　〃Golden　Legend；〃　the　author　of　the　saints　lives　of　Saints　Germain；　Vincent；　Ferreol；　Ferrution；　and　Droctoveus　was；　just　as　I　had　supposed；　a　monk　of　Saint…Germain…des…Pres。　　And　what　a　monk；　toopious　and　generous！　He　had　a　silver　chin；　a　silver　head；　and　a　silver　foot　made；　that　certain　precious　remains　should　be　covered　with　an　incorruptible　envelope！　　But　shall　I　never　be　able　to　view　his　handiwork？　or　is　this　new　discovery　only　destined　to　increase　my　regrets？
  August　20；　1859。
  〃I；　that　please　some；　try　all；　both　joy　and　terror　　Of　good　and　bad；　that　make　and　unfold　error　　Now　take　upon　me；　in　the　name　of　Time　　To　use　my　wings。　　Impute　it　not　a　crime　　To　me　or　my　swift　passage；　that　I　slide　　O'er　years。〃
  Who　speaks　thus？　　'Tis　an　old　man　whom　I　know　too　well。　　It　is　Time。
  Shakespeare；　after　having　terminated　the　third　act　of　the　〃Winter's　Tale；〃　pauses　in　order　to　leave　time　for　little　Perdita　to　grow　up　in　wisdom　and　in　beauty；　and　when　he　raises　the　curtain　again　he　evokes　the　ancient　Scythe…bearer　upon　the　stage　to　render　account　to　the　audience　of　those　many　long　days　which　have　weighted　down　upon　the　head　of　the　jealous　Leontes。
  Like　Shakespeare　in　his　play；　I　have　left　in　this　diary　of　mine　a　long　interval　to　oblivion；　and　after　the　fashion　of　the　poet；　I　make　Time　himself　intervene　to　explain　the　omission　of　ten　whole　years。　Ten　whole　years；　indeed；　have　passed　since　I　wrote　one　single　line　in　this　diary；　and　now　that　I　take　up　the　pen　again；　I　have　not　the　pleasure；　alas！　to　describe　a　Perdita　〃now　grown　in　grace。〃　　Youth　and　beauty　are　the　faithful　companions　of　poets；　but　those　charming　phantoms　scarcely　visit　the　rest　of　us；　even　for　the　space　of　a　season。　　We　do　not　know　how　to　retain　them　with　us。　　If　the　fair　shade　of　some　Perdita　should　ever；　through　some　inconceivable　whim；　take　a　notion　to　traverse　my　brain；　she　would　hurt　herself　horribly　against　heaps　of　dog…eared　parchments。　　Happy　the　poets！their　white　hairs　never　scare　away　the　hovering　shades　of　Helens；　Francescas；　Juliets；　Julias；　and　Dorotheas！　　But　the　nose　alone　of　Sylvestre　Bonnard　would　put　to　flight　the　whole　swarm　of　love's　heroines。
  Yet　I；　like　others；　have　felt　beauty；　I　have　known　that　mysterious　charm　which　Nature　has　lent　to　animate　form；　and　the　clay　which　lives　has　given　to　me　that　shudder　of　delight　which　makes　the　lover　and　the　poet。　　But　I　have　never　known　either　how　to　love　or　how　to　sing。　　Now　in　my　memoryall　encumbered　as　it　is　with　the　rubbish　of　old　textsI　can　discern　again；　like　a　miniature　forgotten　in　some　attic；　a　certain　bright　young　face；　with　violet　eyes。。。。　　Why；　Bonnard；　my　friend；　what　an　old　fool　you　are　becoming！　　Read　that　catalogue　which　a　Florentine　bookseller　sent　you　this　very　morning。　It　is　a　catalogue　of　Manuscripts；　and　he　promises　you　a　description　of　several　famous　ones；　long　preserved　by　the　collectors　of　Italy　and　Sicily。　　There　is　something　better　suited　to　you；　something　more　in　keeping　with　your　present　appearance。
  I　read；　I　cry　out！　　Hamilcar；　who　has　assumed　with　the　approach　of　age　an　air　of　gravity　that　intimidates　me；　looks　at　me　reproachfully；　and　seems　to　ask　me　whether　there　is　any　rest　in　this　world；　since　he　cannot　enjoy　it　beside　me；　who　am　old　also　like　himself。
  In　the　sudden　joy　of　my　discovery；　I　need　a　confidant；　and　it　is　to　the　sceptic　Hamilcar　that　I　address　myself　with　all　the　effusion　of　a　happy　man。
  〃No；　Hamilcar！　no；〃　I　said　to　him；　〃there　is　no　rest　in　this　world；　and　the　quietude　which　you　long　for　is　incompatible　with　the　duties　of　life。　　And　you　say　that　we　are　old；　indeed！　　Listen　to　what　I　read　in　this　catalogue；　and　then　tell　me　whether　this　is　a　time　to　be　reposing：
  〃'LA　LEGENDE　DOREE　DE　JACQUES　DE　VORAGINE；trduction　francaise　du　　　quatorzieme　sicle；　par　le　Clerc　Alexandre。
  〃'Superb　MS。；　ornamented　with　two　miniatures；　wonderfully　executed；　and　in　a　perfect　state　of　preservation：one　representing　the　Purification　of　the　Virgin；　the　other　the　Coronation　of　Proserpine。
  〃'At　the　termination　of　the　〃Legende　Doree〃　are　the　Legends　of　Saints　Ferreol；　Ferrution；　Germain；　and　Droctoveus　（xxxviij　pp。）　and　the　Miraculous　Sepulture　of　Monsieur　Saint…Germain　d'Auxerre　（xij　pp。）。
  〃'This　rare　manuscript；　which　formed　part　of　the　collection　of　Sir　Thomas　Raleigh；　is　now　in　the　private　study　of　Signor　Michel…Angelo　Polizzi；　of　Girgenti。'〃
  〃You　hear　that；　Hamilcar？　　The　manuscript　of　the　Clerk　Alexander　is　in　Sicily；　at　the　house　of　Michel…Angelo　Polizzi。　　Heaven　grant　he　may　be　a　friend　of　learned　men！　　I　am　going　to　write　him！〃
  Which　I　did　forthwith。　　In　my　letter　I　requested　Signor　Polizzi　to　allow　me　to　examine　the　manuscript　of　Clerk　Alexander；　stating　on　what　grounds　I　ventured　to　consider　myself　worthy　of　so　great　a　favour。　　I　offered　at　the　same　time　to　put　at　his　disposal　several　unpublished　texts　in　my　own　possession；　not　devoid　of　interest。　　I　begged　him　to　favour　me　with　a　prompt　reply；　and　below　my　signature　I　wrote　down　all　my　honorary　titles。
  〃Monsieur！　Monsieur！　where　are　you　running　like　that？〃　cried　Therese；　quite　alarmed；　coming　down　the　stairs　in　pursuit　of　me；　four　steps　at　a　time；　with　my　hat　in　her　hand。
  〃I　am　going　to　post　a　letter；　Therese。〃
  〃Good　God！　is　that　a　way　to　run　out　in　the　street；　bareheaded；　like　a　crazy　man？〃
  〃I　am　crazy；　I　know；　Therese。　　But　who　is　not？　　Give　me　my　hat；　quick！〃
  〃And　your　gloves；　Monsieur！　and　your　umbrella！〃
  I　had　reached　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　but　still　heard　her　protesting　and　lamenting。
  October　10；　1859。
  I　awaited　Signor　Polizzi's　reply　with　ill…contained　impatience。　　I　could　not　even　remain　quiet；　I　would　make　sudden　nervous　gestures　open　books　and　violently　close　them　again。　　One　day　I　happened　to　upset　a　book　with　my　elbowa　volume　of　Moreri。　　Hamilcar；　who　was　washing　himself；　suddenly　stopped；　and　looked　angrily　at　me；　with　his　paw　over　his　ear。　　Was　this　the　tumultuous　existence　he　must　expect　under　my　roof？　　Had　there　not　been　a　tacit　understanding　between　us　that　we　should　live　a　peaceful　life？　　I　had　broken　the　covenant。
  〃My　poor　dear　comrade；〃　I　made　answer；　〃I　am　the　victim　of　a　violent　passion；　which　agitates　and　masters　me。　　The　passions　are　enemies　of　peace　and　quiet；　I　acknowledge；　but　without　them　there　would　be　no　arts　or　industries　in　the　world。　　Everybody　would　sleep　naked　on　a　dung…heap；　and　you　would　not　be　able；　Hamilcar；　to　repose　all　day　on　a　silken　cushion；　in　the　City　of　Books。〃
  I　expatiated　no　further　to　Hamilcar　on　the　theory　of　the　passions；　however；　because　my　housekeeper　brought　me　a　letter。　　It　bore　the　postmark　of　Naples　and　read　as　follows：
  〃Most　Illustrious　Sir；I　do　indeed　possess　that　incomparable　manuscript　of　the　'Golden　Legend'　which　could　not　escape　your　keen　observation。　　All…important　reasons；　however；　forbid　me；　imperiously；　tyrannically；　to　let　the　manuscript　go　out　of　my　possession　for　a　single　day；　for　even　a　single　minute。　　It　will　be　a　joy　and　pride　for　me　to　have　you　examine　it　in　my　humble　home　in　Girgenti；　which　will　be　embellished　and　illuminated　by　your　presence。　　It　is　with　the　most　anxious　expectation　of　your　visit　that　I　presume　to　sign　myself；　Seigneur　Academician；　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Your　humble　and　devoted　servant　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Michel…Angelo　Polizzi；　　　　　　〃Wine…merchant　and　Archaeologist　at　Girgenti；　Sicily。〃
  Well；　then！　　I　will　go　to　Sicily：
  〃Extremum　hunc；　Arethusa；　mihi　concede　laborem。〃
  October　25；　1859。
  My　resolve　had　been　taken　and　my　preparations　made；　it　only　remained　for　me　to　notify　my　housekeeper。　　I　must　acknowledge　it　was　a　long　time　before　I　could　make　up　my　mind　to　tell　her　I　was　going　away。　I　feared　her　remonstrances；　her　railleries；　her　objurgations；　her　tears。　　〃She　is　a　good；　kind　girl；〃　I　said　to　myself；　〃she　is　attacked　to　me；　she　will　want　to　prevent　me　from　going；　and　the　Lord　knows　that　when　she　has　her　mind　set　upon　anything；　gestures　and　cries　cost　her　no　effort。　　In　this　instance　she　will　be　sure　to　call　the　concierge；　the　scrubber；　the　mattress…maker；　and　the　seven　sons　of　the　fruit…seller；　they　will　all　kneel　down　in　a　circle　around　me；　they　will　begin　to　cry；　and　then　they　will　look　so　ugly　that　I　shall　be　obliged　to　yield；　so　as　not　to　have　the　pain　of　seeing　them　any　more。〃
  Such　were　the　awful　images；　the　sick　dreams；　which　fear　marshaled　before　my　imagination。　　Yes；　fear〃fecund　Fear；〃　as　the　poet　says　gave　birth　to　these　monstrosities　in　my　brain。　　ForI　ma