Frommet's den Schleier aufzuheben, Wo das nahe Schreckness droht?
Nur das Irrthum ist das Leben Und das Wissen ist der Tod,--Schiller, Kassandro.
Delusion is the life we live And knowledge death; oh wherefore, then, To sight the coming evils give And lift the veil of Fate to Man?
Zwei Seelen wohnen, ach! in meiner Brust.
(Two souls dwell, alas! in my breast.)
...
Was stehst du so, und blickst erstaunt hinaus?
(Why standest thou so, and lookest out astonished?)"Faust."
It will be remembered that we left Master Paolo by the bedside of Glyndon; and as, waking from that profound slumber, the recollections of the past night came horribly back to his mind, the Englishman uttered a cry, and covered his face with his hands.
"Good morrow, Excellency!" said Paolo, gayly."Corpo di Bacco, you have slept soundly!"The sound of this man's voice, so lusty, ringing, and healthful, served to scatter before it the phantasma that yet haunted Glyndon's memory.
He rose erect in his bed."And where did you find me? Why are you here?""Where did I find you!" repeated Paolo, in surprise,--"in your bed, to be sure.Why am I here!--because the Padrone bade me await your waking, and attend your commands.""The Padrone, Mejnour!--is he arrived?"
"Arrived and departed, signor.He has left this letter for you.""Give it me, and wait without till I am dressed.""At your service.I have bespoke an excellent breakfast: you must be hungry.I am a very tolerable cook; a monk's son ought to be! You will be startled at my genius in the dressing of fish.My singing, I trust, will not disturb you.I always sing while I prepare a salad; it harmonises the ingredients." And slinging his carbine over his shoulder, Paolo sauntered from the room, and closed the door.
Glyndon was already deep in the contents of the following letter:--"When I first received thee as my pupil, I promised Zanoni, if convinced by thy first trials that thou couldst but swell, not the number of our order, but the list of the victims who have aspired to it in vain, I would not rear thee to thine own wretchedness and doom,--I would dismiss thee back to the world.
I fulfil my promise.Thine ordeal has been the easiest that neophyte ever knew.I asked for nothing but abstinence from the sensual, and a brief experiment of thy patience and thy faith.
Go back to thine own world; thou hast no nature to aspire to ours!
"It was I who prepared Paolo to receive thee at the revel.It was I who instigated the old beggar to ask thee for alms.It was I who left open the book that thou couldst not read without violating my command.Well, thou hast seen what awaits thee at the threshold of knowledge.Thou hast confronted the first foe that menaces him whom the senses yet grasp and inthrall.Dost thou wonder that I close upon thee the gates forever? Dost thou not comprehend, at last, that it needs a soul tempered and purified and raised, not by external spells, but by its own sublimity and valour, to pass the threshold and disdain the foe?
Wretch! all my silence avails nothing for the rash, for the sensual,--for him who desires our secrets but to pollute them to gross enjoyments and selfish vice.How have the imposters and sorcerers of the earlier times perished by their very attempt to penetrate the mysteries that should purify, and not deprave!
They have boasted of the Philosopher's Stone, and died in rags;of the immortal elixir, and sunk to their grave, grey before their time.Legends tell you that the fiend rent them into fragments.Yes; the fiend of their own unholy desires and criminal designs! What they coveted, thou covetest; and if thou hadst the wings of a seraph thou couldst soar not from the slough of thy mortality.Thy desire for knowledge, but petulant presumption; thy thirst for happiness, but the diseased longing for the unclean and muddied waters of corporeal pleasure; thy very love, which usually elevates even the mean, a passion that calculates treason amidst the first glow of lust.THOU one of us; thou a brother of the August Order; thou an Aspirant to the Stars that shine in the Shemaia of the Chaldean lore! The eagle can raise but the eaglet to the sun.I abandon thee to thy twilight!
"But, alas for thee, disobedient and profane! thou hast inhaled the elixir; thou hast attracted to thy presence a ghastly and remorseless foe.Thou thyself must exorcise the phantom thou hast raised.Thou must return to the world; but not without punishment and strong effort canst thou regain the calm and the joy of the life thou hast left behind.This, for thy comfort, will I tell thee: he who has drawn into his frame even so little of the volatile and vital energy of the aerial juices as thyself, has awakened faculties that cannot sleep,--faculties that may yet, with patient humility, with sound faith, and the courage that is not of the body like thine, but of the resolute and virtuous mind, attain, if not to the knowledge that reigns above, to high achievement in the career of men.Thou wilt find the restless influence in all that thou wouldst undertake.Thy heart, amidst vulgar joys will aspire to something holier; thy ambition, amidst coarse excitement, to something beyond thy reach.But deem not that this of itself will suffice for glory.
Equally may the craving lead thee to shame and guilt.It is but an imperfect and new-born energy which will not suffer thee to repose.As thou directest it, must thou believe it to be the emanation of thine evil genius or thy good.
