Zicci | Page 8

fatal shadow had not crossed thy path, thou wouldst have
loved him well enough, at least, for content. Return to that hope, and
nurse again that innocent affection: this is my answer to thee. Art thou
contented?"
"No! ah, no! Severe as thou art, I love better to hear thee than,
than--What am I saying? And now you have saved me, I shall pray for
you, bless you, think of you; and am I never to see you more? Alas! the
moment you leave me, danger and dread will darken round me. Let me
be your servant, your slave; with you I should have no fear."
A dark shade fell over Zicci's brow; he looked from the ground, on
which his eyes had rested while she spoke, upon the earnest and
imploring face of the beautiful creature that now knelt before him, with
all the passions of an ardent and pure, but wholly untutored and
half-savage, nature speaking from the tearful eyes and trembling lips.
He looked at her with an aspect she could not interpret; in his eyes were
kindness, sorrow, and even something, she thought, of love: yet the
brow frowned, and the lip was stern.
"It is in vain that we struggle with our doom," said he, calmly; "listen to
me yet. I am a man, Isabel, in whom there are some good impulses yet
left, but whose life is, on the whole, devoted to a systematic and selfish
desire to enjoy whatever life can afford. To me it is given to warn: the
warning neglected, I interfere no more; I leave her victories to that Fate
that I cannot baffle of her prey. You do not understand me; no matter:
what I am now about to say will be more easy to comprehend. I tell

thee to tear from thy heart all thought of me: thou hast yet the power. If
thou wilt not obey me, thou must reap the seeds that thou wilt sow.
Glyndon, if thou acceptest his homage, will love thee throughout life; I,
too, can love thee."
"You, you--"
"But with a lukewarm and selfish love, and one that cannot last. Thou
wilt be a flower in my path; I inhale thy sweetness and pass on, caring
not what wind shall sup thee, or what step shall tread thee to the dust.
Which is the love thou wouldst prefer?"
"But do you, can you love me,--you, you, Zicci,--even for an hour? Say
it again."
"Yes, Isabel; I am not dead to beauty, and yours is that rarely given to
the daughters of men. Yes, Isabel, I could love thee"
Isabel uttered a cry of joy, seized his hand, and kissed it through
burning and impassioned tears. Zicci raised her in his arms and
imprinted one kiss upon her forehead.
"Do not deceive thyself," he said; "consider well. I tell thee again that
my love is subjected to the certain curse of change. For my part, I shall
seek thee no more. Thy fate shall be thine own, and not mine. For the
rest, fear not the Prince di --. At present, I can save thee from every
harm." With these words he withdrew himself from her embrace, and
had gained the outer door just as Gionetta came from the kitchen with
her hands full of such cheer as she had managed to collect together.
Zicci laid his hand on the old woman's arm.
"Signor Glyndon," said he, "loves Isabel; he may wed her. You love
your mistress: plead for him. Disabuse her, if you can, of any caprice
for me. I am a bird ever on the wing." He dropped a purse, heavy with
gold, into Gionetta's bosom, and was gone.

CHAPTER IV.

The palace of Zicci was among the noblest in Naples. It still stands,
though ruined and dismantled, in one of those antique streets from
which the old races of the Norman and the Spaniard have long since
vanished.
He ascended the vast staircase, and entered the rooms reserved for his
private hours. They were no wise remarkable except for their luxury
and splendor, and the absence of what men so learned as Zicci was
reputed, generally prize, namely, books. Zicci seemed to know
everything that books can teach; yet of books themselves he spoke and
thought with the most profound contempt.
He threw himself on a sofa, and dismissed his attendants for the night;
and here it may be observed that Zicci had no one servant who knew
anything of his origin, birth, or history. Some of his attendants he had
brought with him from other cities; the rest he had engaged at Naples.
He hired those only whom wealth can make subservient. His
expenditure was most lavish, his generosity, regal; but his orders were
ever given as those of