'I have seen her, then,' said he, as he paced that narrow chamber—'I have heard her—nay, I have spoken to her again—I have listened to the music of her song, and she sung of glory and of Greece. I have discovered the long-sought idol13 of my dreams; and like the Cyprian sculptor14, I have breathed life into my own imaginings.'
Longer, perhaps, had been the enamoured soliloquy of Glaucus, but at that moment a shadow darkened the threshold of the chamber, and a young female, still half a child in years, broke upon his solitude15. She was dressed simply in a white tunic16, which reached from the neck to the ankles; under her arm she bore a basket of flowers, and in the other hand she held a bronze water-vase; her features were more formed than exactly became her years, yet they were soft and feminine in their outline, and without being beautiful in themselves, they were almost made so by their beauty of expression; there was something ineffably17 gentle, and you would say patient, in her aspect. A look of resigned sorrow, of tranquil18 endurance, had banished19 the smile, but not the sweetness, from her lips; something timid and cautious in her step—something wandering in her eyes, led you to suspect the affliction which she had suffered from her birth—she was blind; but in the orbs20 themselves there was no visible defect—their melancholy21 and subdued22 light was clear, cloudless, and serene23. 'They tell me that Glaucus is here,' said she; 'may I come in?'
'Ah, my Nydia,' said the Greek, 'is that you I knew you would not neglect my invitation.'
'Glaucus did but justice to himself,' answered Nydia, with a blush; 'for he has always been kind to the poor blind girl.'
'Who could be otherwise?' said Glaucus, tenderly, and in the voice of a compassionate24 brother.
Nydia sighed and paused before she resumed, without replying to his remark. 'You have but lately returned?'
'This is the sixth sun that hath shone upon me at Pompeii.'
'And you are well? Ah, I need not ask—for who that sees the earth, which they tell me is so beautiful, can be ill?'
'I am well. And you, Nydia—how you have grown! Next year you will be thinking what answer to make your lovers.'
A second blush passed over the cheek of Nydia, but this time she frowned as she blushed. 'I have brought you some flowers,' said she, without replying to a remark that she seemed to resent; and feeling about the room till she found the table that stood by Glaucus, she laid the basket upon it: 'they are poor, but they are fresh-gathered.'
'They might come from Flora25 herself,' said he, kindly26; 'and I renew again my vow27 to the Graces, that I will wear no other garlands while thy hands can weave me such as these.'
'And how find you the flowers in your viridarium?—are they thriving?'
'Wonderfully so—the Lares themselves must have tended them.'
'Ah, now you give me pleasure; for I came, as often as I could steal the leisure, to water and tend them in your absence.'
'How shall I thank thee, fair Nydia?' said the Greek. 'Glaucus little dreamed that he left one memory so watchful28 over his favorites at Pompeii.'
The hand of the child trembled, and her breast heaved beneath her tunic. She turned round in embarrassment29. 'The sun is hot for the poor flowers,' said she, 'to-day and they will miss me; for I have been ill lately, and it is nine days since I visited them.'
'Ill, Nydia!—yet your cheek has more color than it had last year.'
'I am often ailing,' said the blind girl, touchingly30; 'and as I grow up I grieve more that I am blind. But now to the flowers!' So saying, she made a slight reverence31 with her head, and passing into the viridarium, busied herself with watering the flowers.
'Poor Nydia,' thought Glaucus, gazing on her; 'thine is a hard doom32! Thou seest not the earth—nor the sun—nor the ocean—nor the stars—above all, thou canst not behold33 Ione.'
At that last thought his mind flew back to the past evening, and was a second time disturbed in its reveries by the entrance of Clodius. It was a proof how much a single evening had sufficed to increase and to refine the love of the Athenian for Ione, that whereas he had confided34 to Clodius the secret of his first interview with her, and the effect it had produced on him, he now felt an invincible35 aversion even to mention to him her name. He had seen Ione, bright, pure, unsullied, in the midst of the gayest and most profligate36 gallants of Pompeii, charming rather than awing37 the boldest into respect, and changing the very nature of the most sensual and the least ideal—as by her intellectual and refining spells she reversed the fable38 of Circe, and converted the animals into men. They who could not understand her soul were made spiritual, as it were, by the magic of her beauty—they who had no heart for poetry had ears, at least, for the melody of her voice. Seeing her thus surrounded, purifying and brightening all things with her presence, Glaucus almost for the first time felt the nobleness of his own nature—he felt how unworthy of the goddess of his dreams had been his companions and his pursuits. A veil seemed lifted from his eyes; he saw that immeasurable distance between himself and his associates which the deceiving mists of pleasure had hitherto concealed39; he was refined by a sense of his courage in aspiring40 to Ione. He felt that henceforth it was his destiny to look upward and to soar. He could no longer breathe that name, which sounded to the sense of his ardent41 fancy as something sacred and divine, to lewd42 and vulgar ears. She was no longer the beautiful girl once seen and passionately43 remembered—she was already the mistress, the divinity of his soul. This feeling who has not experienced?—If thou hast not, then thou hast never loved.
When Clodius therefore spoke12 to him in affected44 transport of the beauty of Ione, Glaucus felt only resentment45 and disgust that such lips should dare to praise her; he answered coldly, and the Roman imagined that his passion was cured instead of heightened. Clodius scarcely regretted it, for he was anxious that Glaucus should marry an heiress yet more richly endowed—Julia, the daughter of the wealthy Diomed, whose gold the gamester imagined he could readily divert into his own coffers. Their conversation did not flow with its usual ease; and no sooner had Clodius left him than Glaucus bent46 his way to the house of Ione. In passing by the threshold he again encountered Nydia, who had finished her graceful47 task. She knew his step on the instant.
'You are early abroad?' said she.
'Ah, would I could see them!' murmured the blind girl, but so low that Glaucus did not overhear the complaint.
The Thessalian lingered on the threshold a few moments, and then guiding her steps by a long staff, which she used with great dexterity50, she took her way homeward. She soon turned from the more gaudy51 streets, and entered a quarter of the town but little loved by the decorous and the sober. But from the low and rude evidences of vice52 around her she was saved by her misfortune. And at that hour the streets were quiet and silent, nor was her youthful ear shocked by the sounds which too often broke along the obscene and obscure haunts she patiently and sadly traversed.
She knocked at the back-door of a sort of tavern53; it opened, and a rude voice bade her give an account of the sesterces. Ere she could reply, another voice, less vulgarly accented, said:
'Never mind those petty profits, my Burbo. The girl's voice will be wanted again soon at our rich friend's revels54; and he pays, as thou knowest, pretty high for his nightingales' tongues.
'Oh, I hope not—I trust not,' cried Nydia, trembling. 'I will beg from sunrise to sunset, but send me not there.'
'And why?' asked the same voice.
'Because—because I am young, and delicately born, and the female companions I meet there are not fit associates for one who—who...'
'Is a slave in the house of Burbo,' returned the voice ironically, and with a coarse laugh.
The Thessalian put down the flowers, and, leaning her face on her hands, wept silently.
Meanwhile, Glaucus sought the house of the beautiful Neapolitan. He found Ione sitting amidst her attendants, who were at work around her. Her harp56 stood at her side, for Ione herself was unusually idle, perhaps unusually thoughtful, that day. He thought her even more beautiful by the morning light and in her simple robe, than amidst the blazing lamps, and decorated with the costly57 jewels of the previous night: not the less so from a certain paleness that overspread her transparent58 hues59—not the less so from the blush that mounted over them when he approached. Accustomed to flatter, flattery died upon his lips when he addressed Ione. He felt it beneath her to utter the homage60 which every look conveyed. They spoke of Greece; this was a theme on which Ione loved rather to listen than to converse61: it was a theme on which the Greek could have been eloquent62 for ever. He described to her the silver olive groves63 that yet clad the banks of Ilyssus, and the temples, already despoiled64 of half their glories—but how beautiful in decay! He looked back on the melancholy city of Harmodius the free, and Pericles the magnificent, from the height of that distant memory, which mellowed65 into one hazy66 light all the ruder and darker shades. He had seen the land of poetry chiefly in the poetical67 age of early youth; and the associations of patriotism68 were blended with those of the flush and spring of life. And Ione listened to him, absorbed and mute; dearer were those accents, and those descriptions, than all the prodigal69 adulation of her numberless adorers. Was it a sin to love her countryman? she loved Athens in him—the gods of her race, the land of her dreams, spoke to her in his voice! From that time they daily saw each other. At the cool of the evening they made excursions on the placid70 sea. By night they met again in Ione's porticoes71 and halls. Their love was sudden, but it was strong; it filled all the sources of their life. Heart—brain—sense—imagination, all were its ministers and priests. As you take some obstacle from two objects that have a mutual72 attraction, they met, and united at once; their wonder was, that they had lived separate so long. And it was natural that they should so love. Young, beautiful, and gifted—of the same birth, and the same soul—there was poetry in their very union. They imagined the heavens smiled upon their affection. As the persecuted73 seek refuge at the shrine74, so they recognized in the altar of their love an asylum75 from the sorrows of earth; they covered it with flowers—they knew not of the serpents that lay coiled behind.
One evening, the fifth after their first meeting at Pompeii, Glaucus and Ione, with a small party of chosen friends, were returning from an excursion round the bay; their vessel76 skimmed lightly over the twilight77 waters, whose lucid78 mirror was only broken by the dripping oars55. As the rest of the party conversed79 gaily with each other, Glaucus lay at the feet of Ione, and he would have looked up in her face, but he did not dare. Ione broke the pause between them.
'My poor brother,' said she, sighing, 'how once he would have enjoyed this hour!'
'Your brother!' said Glaucus; 'I have not seen him. Occupied with you, I have thought of nothing else, or I should have asked if that was not your brother for whose companionship you left me at the Temple of Minerva, in Neapolis?'
'It was.'
'And is he here?'
'He is.
'At Pompeii! and not constantly with you? Impossible!'
'He has other duties,' answered Ione, sadly; 'he is a priest of Isis.'
'So young, too; and that priesthood, in its laws at least, so severe!' said the warm and bright-hearted Greek, in surprise and pity. 'What could have been his inducement?'
'He was always enthusiastic and fervent80 in religious devotion: and the eloquence81 of an Egyptian—our friend and guardian—kindled in him the pious82 desire to consecrate83 his life to the most mystic of our deities84. Perhaps in the intenseness of his zeal85, he found in the severity of that peculiar86 priesthood its peculiar attraction.'
Ione sighed deeply, and lowered her veil over her eyes.
'I wish,' said she, after a pause, 'that he had not been so hasty. Perhaps, like all who expect too much, he is revolted too easily!'
'Then he is not happy in his new condition. And this Egyptian, was he a priest himself? was he interested in recruits to the sacred band?
'No. His main interest was in our happiness. He thought he promoted that of my brother. We were left orphans88.'
'Like myself,' said Glaucus, with a deep meaning in his voice.
Ione cast down her eyes as she resumed:
'And Arbaces sought to supply the place of our parent. You must know him. He loves genius.'
'Arbaces! I know him already; at least, we speak when we meet. But for your praise I would not seek to know more of him. My heart inclines readily to most of my kind. But that dark Egyptian, with his gloomy brow and icy smiles, seems to me to sadden the very sun. One would think that, like Epimenides, the Cretan, he had spent forty years in a cave, and had found something unnatural89 in the daylight ever afterwards.'
'Yet, like Epimenides, he is kind, and wise, and gentle,' answered Ione.
'His calm, his coldness,' said Ione, evasively pursuing the subject, 'are perhaps but the exhaustion91 of past sufferings; as yonder mountain (and she pointed92 to Vesuvius), which we see dark and tranquil in the distance, once nursed the fires for ever quenched93.'
They both gazed on the mountain as Ione said these words; the rest of the sky was bathed in rosy94 and tender hues, but over that grey summit, rising amidst the woods and vineyards that then clomb half-way up the ascent95, there hung a black and ominous96 cloud, the single frown of the landscape. A sudden and unaccountable gloom came over each as they thus gazed; and in that sympathy which love had already taught them, and which bade them, in the slightest shadows of emotion, the faintest presentiment97 of evil, turn for refuge to each other, their gaze at the same moment left the mountain, and full of unimaginable tenderness, met. What need had they of words to say they loved?
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1
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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casements
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| n.窗扉( casement的名词复数 ) | |
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conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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dwellers
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| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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perfidy
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| n.背信弃义，不忠贞 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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ineffably
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| adv.难以言喻地，因神圣而不容称呼地 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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touchingly
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| adv.令人同情地，感人地，动人地 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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profligate
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| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
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awing
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| adj.& adv.飞翔的[地]v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的现在分词 ) | |
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fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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aspiring
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| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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lewd
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| adj.淫荡的 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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sluggard
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| n.懒人；adj.懒惰的 | |
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50
dexterity
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| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
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51
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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52
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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53
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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54
revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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55
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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56
harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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despoiled
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| v.掠夺，抢劫( despoil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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porticoes
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| n.柱廊，（有圆柱的）门廊( portico的名词复数 ) | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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83
consecrate
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| v.使圣化，奉…为神圣；尊崇；奉献 | |
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84
deities
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| n.神，女神( deity的名词复数 )；神祗；神灵；神明 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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86
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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