第7章

Theypartedonthelawnbeforethehouse，theCounttoclimbhistower，andthesculptortoreadanantiqueeditionofDante，whichhehadfoundamongsomeoldvolumesofCatholicdevotion，inaseldom-visitedroom，Tomasomethimintheentrancehall，andshowedadesiretospeak。

"Ourpoorsignorinolooksverysadto-day！"hesaid。

"Evenso，goodTomaso，"repliedthesculptor。"Wouldthatwecouldraisehisspiritsalittle！"

"Theremightbemeans，Signore，"answeredtheoldbutler，"ifonemightbutbesurethattheyweretherightones。Wemenarebutroughnursesforasickbodyorasickspirit。"

"Women，youwouldsay，mygoodfriend，arebetter，"saidthesculptor，struckbyanintelligenceinthebutler\'sface。"Thatispossible！

Butitdepends。"

"Ah；wewillwaitalittlelonger，"saidTomaso，withthecustomaryshakeofhishead。

CHAPTERXXVIII

THEOWLTOWER

"Willyounotshowmeyourtower？"saidthesculptoronedaytohisfriend。

"Itisplainlyenoughtobeseen，methinks，"answeredtheCount，withakindofsulkinessthatoftenappearedinhim，asoneofthelittlesymptomsofinwardtrouble。

"Yes；itsexteriorisvisiblefarandwide，"saidKenyon。"Butsuchagray，moss-growntowerasthis，howevervaluableasanobjectofscenery，willcertainlybequiteasinterestinginsideasout。Itcannotbelessthansixhundredyearsold；thefoundationsandlowerstoryaremucholderthanthat，Ishouldjudge；andtraditionsprobablyclingtothewallswithinquiteasplentifullyasthegrayandyellowlichensclusteronitsfacewithout。"

"Nodoubt，"repliedDonatello，——"butIknowlittleofsuchthings，andnevercouldcomprehendtheinterestwhichsomeofyouForestieritakeinthem。AyearortwoagoanEnglishsignore，withavenerablewhitebeard——theysayhewasamagician，too——camehitherfromasfaroffasFlorence，justtoseemytower。"

"Ah，IhaveseenhimatFlorence，"observedKenyon。"Heisanecromancer，asyousay，anddwellsinanoldmansionoftheKnightsTemplars，closebythePonteVecchio，withagreatmanyghostlybooks，pictures，andantiquities，tomakethehousegloomy，andonebright-eyedlittlegirl，tokeepitcheerful！"

"Iknowhimonlybyhiswhitebeard，"saidDonatello；"buthecouldhavetoldyouagreatdealaboutthetower，andthesiegeswhichithasstood，andtheprisonerswhohavebeenconfinedinit。AndhegatheredupallthetraditionsoftheMonteBenifamily，and，amongtherest，thesadonewhichItoldyouatthefountaintheotherday。

Hehadknownmightypoets，hesaid，inhisearlierlife；andthemostillustriousofthemwouldhaverejoicedtopreservesuchalegendinimmortalrhyme，——especiallyifhecouldhavehadsomeofourwineofSunshinetohelpouthisinspiration！"

"Anymanmightbeapoet，aswellasByron，withsuchwineandsuchatheme，"rejoinedthesculptor。"ButshallweclimbyourtowerThethunder-stormgatheringyonderamongthehillswillbeaspectacleworthwitnessing。"

"Come，then，"saidtheCount，adding，withasigh，"ithasawearystaircase，anddismalchambers，anditisverylonesomeatthesummit！"

"Likeaman\'slife，whenhehasclimbedtoeminence，"remarkedthesculptor；"or，letusrathersay，withitsdifficultsteps，andthedarkprisoncellsyouspeakof，yourtowerresemblesthespiritualexperienceofmanyasinfulsoul，which，nevertheless，maystruggleupwardintothepureairandlightofHeavenatlast！"

Donatellosighedagain，andledthewayupintothetower。

Mountingthebroadstaircasethatascendedfromtheentrancehall，theytraversedthegreatwildernessofahouse，throughsomeobscurepassages，andcametoalow，ancientdoorway。Itadmittedthemtoanarrowturretstairwhichzigzaggedupward，lightedinitsprogressbyloopholesandiron-barredwindows。Reachingthetopofthefirstflight，theCountthrewopenadoorofworm-eatenoak，anddisclosedachamberthatoccupiedthewholeareaofthetower。Itwasmostpitiablyforlornofaspect，withabrick-pavedfloor，bareholesthroughthemassivewalls，gratedwithiron，insteadofwindows，andforfurnitureanoldstool，whichincreasedthedrearinessoftheplacetenfold，bysuggestinganideaofitshavingoncebeentenanted。

"Thiswasaprisoner\'scellintheolddays，"saidDonatello；"thewhite-beardednecromancer，ofwhomItoldyou，foundoutthatacertainfamousmonkwasconfinedhere，aboutfivehundredyearsago。

Hewasaveryholyman，andwasafterwardsburnedatthestakeintheGrand-ducalSquareatFirenze。Therehavealwaysbeenstories，Tomasosays，ofahoodedmonkcreepingupanddownthesestairs，orstandinginthedoorwayofthischamber。Itmustneedsbetheghostoftheancientprisoner。Doyoubelieveinghosts？"

"Icanhardlytell，"repliedKenyon；"onthewhole，Ithinknot。"

"NeitherdoI，"respondedtheCount；"for，ifspiritsevercomeback，Ishouldsurelyhavemetonewithinthesetwomonthspast。Ghostsneverrise！SomuchIknow，andamgladtoknowit！"

Followingthenarrowstaircasestillhigher，theycametoanotherroomofsimilarsizeandequallyforlorn，butinhabitedbytwopersonagesofaracewhichfromtimeimmemorialhaveheldproprietorshipandoccupancyinruinedtowers。Thesewereapairofowls，who，beingdoubtlessacquaintedwithDonatello，showedlittlesignofalarmattheentranceofvisitors。Theygaveadismalcroakortwo，andhoppedasideintothedarkestcorner，sinceitwasnotyettheirhourtoflapduskilyabroad。

"Theydonotdesertme，likemyotherfeatheredacquaintances，"

observedtheyoungCount，withasadsmile，alludingtothescenewhichKenyonhadwitnessedatthefountain-side。"WhenIwasawild，playfulboy，theowlsdidnotlovemehalfsowell。"

Hemadenofurtherpausehere，butledhisfriendupanotherflightofsteps——while，ateverystage，thewindowsandnarrowloopholesaffordedKenyonmoreextensiveeye-shotsoverhillandvalley，andallowedhimtotastethecoolpurityofmid-atmosphere。Atlengththeyreachedthetopmostchamber，directlybeneaththeroofofthetower。

"Thisismyownabode，"saidDonatello；"myownowl\'snest。"

Infact，theroomwasfittedupasabedchamber，thoughinastyleoftheutmostsimplicity。Itlikewiseservedasanoratory；therebeingacrucifixinonecorner，andamultitudeofholyemblems，suchasCatholicsjudgeitnecessarytohelptheirdevotionwithal。Severaluglylittleprints，representingthesufferingsoftheSaviour，andthemartyrdomsofsaints，hungonthewall；andbehindthecrucifixtherewasagoodcopyofTitian\'sMagdalenofthePittiPalace，cladonlyintheflowofhergoldenringlets。Shehadaconfidentlook(butitwasTitian\'sfault，notthepenitentwoman\'s)，asifexpectingtowinheavenbythefreedisplayofherearthlycharms。InsideofaglasscaseappearedanimageofthesacredBambino，intheguiseofalittlewaxenboy，veryprettilymade，recliningamongflowers，likeaCupid，andholdingupaheartthatresembledabitofredsealing-wax。

Asmallvaseofpreciousmarblewasfullofholywater。

Beneaththecrucifix，onatable，layahumanskull，whichlookedasifitmighthavebeendugupoutofsomeoldgrave。But，examiningitmoreclosely，Kenyonsawthatitwascarvedingrayalabaster；mostskillfullydonetothedeath，withaccurateimitationoftheteeth，thesutures，theemptyeye-caverns，andthefragilelittlebonesofthenose。Thishideousemblemrestedonacushionofwhitemarble，sonicelywroughtthatyouseemedtoseetheimpressionoftheheavyskullinasilkenanddownysubstance。

Donatellodippedhisfingersintotheholy-watervase，andcrossedhimself。Afterdoingsohetrembled。

"Ihavenorighttomakethesacredsymbolonasinfulbreast！"hesaid。

"Onwhatmortalbreastcanitbemade，then？"askedthesculptor。"Isthereonethathidesnosin？"

"Buttheseblessedemblemsmakeyousmile，Ifear，"resumedtheCount，lookingaskanceathisfriend。"Youheretics，Iknow，attempttopraywithoutevenacrucifixtokneelat。"

"I，atleast，whomyoucallaheretic，reverencethatholysymbol，"

answeredKenyon。"WhatIammostinclinedtomurmuratisthisdeath\'shead。Icouldlaugh，moreover，initsuglyface！Itisabsurdlymonstrous，mydearfriend，thustoflingthedeadweightofourmortalityuponourimmortalhopes。Whileweliveonearth，\'tistrue，wemustneedscarryourskeletonsaboutwithus；but，forHeaven\'ssake，donotletusburdenourspiritswiththem，inourfeebleeffortstosoarupward！Believeme，itwillchangethewholeaspectofdeath，ifyoucanoncedisconnectit，inyouridea，withthatcorruptionfromwhichitdisengagesourhigherpart。"

"Idonotwellunderstandyou，"saidDonatello；andhetookupthealabasterskull，shuddering，andevidentlyfeelingitakindofpenancetotouchit。"Ionlyknowthatthisskullhasbeeninmyfamilyforcenturies。OldTomasohasastorythatitwascopiedbyafamoussculptorfromtheskullofthatsameunhappyknightwholovedthefountainlady，andlostherbyablood-stain。Helivedanddiedwithadeepsenseofsinuponhim，andonhisdeath-bedheordainedthatthistokenofhimshouldgodowntohisposterity。Andmyforefathers，beingacheerfulraceofmenintheirnaturaldisposition，founditneedfultohavetheskulloftenbeforetheireyes，becausetheydearlylovedlifeanditsenjoyments，andhatedtheverythoughtofdeath。"

"Iamafraid，"saidKenyon，"theylikeditnonethebetter，forseeingitsfaceunderthisabominablemask。"

Withoutfurtherdiscussion，theCountledthewayuponemoreflightofstairs，attheendofwhichtheyemergeduponthesummitofthetower。Thesculptorfeltasifhisbeingweresuddenlymagnifiedahundredfold；sowidewastheUmbrianvalleythatsuddenlyopenedbeforehim，setinitsgrandframeworkofnearerandmoredistanthills。ItseemedasifallItalylayunderhiseyesinthatonepicture。Fortherewasthebroad，sunnysmileofGod，whichwefancytobespreadoverthatfavoredlandmoreabundantlythanonotherregions，andbeneathitglowedamostrichandvariedfertility。Thetrimvineyardswerethere，andthefig-trees，andthemulberries，andthesmoky-huedtractsoftheoliveorchards；there，too，werefieldsofeverykindofgrain，amongwhich，wavedtheIndiancorn，puttingKenyoninmindofthefondlyrememberedacresofhisfather\'shomestead。Whitevillas，grayconvents，churchspires，villages，towns，eachwithitsbattlementedwallsandtoweredgateway，werescattereduponthisspaciousmap；arivergleamedacrossit；andlakesopenedtheirblueeyesinitsface，reflectingheaven，lestmortalsshouldforgetthatbetterlandwhentheybeheldtheearthsobeautiful。

Whatmadethevalleylookstillwiderwasthetwoorthreevarietiesofweatherthatwerevisibleonitssurface，allatthesameinstantoftime。Herelaythequietsunshine；therefellthegreatblackpatchesofominousshadowfromtheclouds；andbehindthem，likeagiantofleague-longstrides，camehurryingthethunderstorm，whichhadalreadysweptmidwayacrosstheplain。Intherearoftheapproachingtempest，brightenedforthagainthesunnysplendor，whichitsprogresshaddarkenedwithsoterribleafrown。

Allroundthismajesticlandscape，thebald-peakedorforest-crownedmountainsdescendedboldlyupontheplain。Onmanyoftheirspursandmidwaydeclivities，andevenontheirsummits，stoodcities，someofthemfamousofold；forthesehadbeentheseatsandnurseriesofearlyart，wheretheflowerofbeautysprangoutofarockysoil，andinahigh，keenatmosphere，whentherichestandmostshelteredgardensfailedtonourishit。

"ThankGodforlettingmeagainbeholdthisscene！"Saidthesculptor，adevoutmaninhisway，reverentlytakingoffhishat。"Ihavevieweditfrommanypoints，andneverwithoutasfullasensationofgratitudeasmyheartseemscapableoffeeling。HowitstrengthensthepoorhumanspiritinitsrelianceonHisprovidence，toascendbutthislittlewayabovethecommonlevel，andsoattainasomewhatwiderglimpseofHisdealingswithmankind！Hedoethallthingsright！Hiswillbedone！"

"Youdiscernsomethingthatishiddenfromme，"observedDonatellogloomily，yetstrivingwithunwontedgrasptocatchtheanalogieswhichsocheeredhisfriend。"Iseesunshineononespot，andcloudinanother，andnoreasonforitineitherease。Thesunonyou；thecloudonme！WhatcomfortcanIdrawfromthis？"

"Nay；Icannotpreach，"saidKenyon，"withapageofheavenandapageofearthspreadwideopenbeforeus！Onlybegintoreadit，andyouwillfinditinterpretingitselfwithouttheaidofwords。Itisagreatmistaketotrytoputourbestthoughtsintohumanlanguage。

Whenweascendintothehigherregionsofemotionandspiritualenjoyment，theyareonlyexpressiblebysuchgrandhieroglyphicsasthesearoundus。"

Theystoodawhile，contemplatingthescene；but，asinevitablyhappensafteraspiritualflight，itwasnotlongbeforethesculptorfelthiswingsflaggingintherarityoftheupperatmosphere。Hewasgladtolethimselfquietlydownwardoutofthemid-sky，asitwere，andalightonthesolidplatformofthebattlementedtower。Helookedabouthim，andbeheldgrowingoutofthestonepavement，whichformedtheroof，alittleshrub，withgreenandglossyleaves。Itwastheonlygreenthingthere；andHeavenknowshowitsseedshadeverbeenplanted，atthatairyheight，orhowithadfoundnourishmentforitssmalllifeinthechinksofthestones；forithadnoearth，andnothingmorelikesoilthanthecrumblingmortar，whichhadbeencrammedintothecrevicesinalong-pastage。

Yettheplantseemedfondofitsnativesite；andDonatellosaidithadalwaysgrowntherefromhisearliestremembrance，andnever，hebelieved，anysmalleroranylargerthantheysawitnow。

"Iwonderiftheshrubteachesyouanygoodlesson，"saidhe，observingtheinterestwithwhichKenyonexaminedit。"Ifthewidevalleyhasagreatmeaning，theplantoughttohaveatleastalittleone；andithasbeengrowingonourtowerlongenoughtohavelearnedhowtospeakit。"

"O，certainly！"answeredthesculptor；"theshrubhasitsmoral，oritwouldhaveperishedlongago。And，nodoubt，itisforyouruseandedification，sinceyouhavehaditbeforeyoureyesallyourlifetime，andnowaremovedtoaskwhatmaybeitslesson。"

"Itteachesmenothing，"saidthesimpleDonatello，stoopingovertheplant，andperplexinghimselfwithaminutescrutiny。"Butherewasawormthatwouldhavekilledit；anuglycreature，whichIwillflingoverthebattlements。"

CHAPTERXXIX

ONTHEBATTLEMENTS

Thesculptornowlookedthroughartembrasure，andthrewdownabitoflime，watchingitsfall，tillitstruckuponastonebenchattherockyfoundationofthetower，andflewintomanyfragments。

"PraypardonmeforhelpingTimetocrumbleawayyourancestralwalls，"

saidhe。"ButIamoneofthosepersonswhohaveanaturaltendencytoclimbheights，andtostandonthevergeofthem，measuringthedepthbelow。IfIweretodojustasIlike，atthismoment，Ishouldflingmyselfdownafterthatbitoflime。Itisaverysingulartemptation，andallbutirresistible；partly，Ibelieve，becauseitmightbesoeasilydone，andpartlybecausesuchmomentousconsequenceswouldensue，withoutmybeingcompelledtowaitamomentforthem。Haveyouneverfeltthisstrangeimpulseofanevilspiritatyourback，shovingyoutowardsaprecipice？"

"Ah，no！"cried。Donatello，shrinkingfromthebattlementedwallwithafaceofhorror。"Iclingtolifeinawaywhichyoucannotconceive；

ithasbeensorich，sowarm，sosunny！——andbeyonditsverge，nothingbutthechillydark！Andthenafallfromaprecipiceissuchanawfuldeath！"

"Nay；ifitbeagreatheight，"saidKenyon，"amanwouldleavehislifeintheair，andneverfeelthehardshockatthebottom。"

"Thatisnotthewaywiththiskindofdeath！"exclaimedDonatello，inalow，horrorstrickenvoice，whichgrewhigherandmorefullofemotionasheproceeded。"Imagineafellowcreature，——breathingnow，andlookingyouintheface，——andnowtumblingdown，down，down，withalongshriekwaveringafterhim，alltheway！Hedoesnotleavehislifeintheair！No；butitkeepsinhimtillhethumpsagainstthestones，ahorriblylongwhile；thenheliestherefrightfullyquiet，adeadheapofbruisedfleshandbrokenbones！Aquiverrunsthroughthecrushedmass；andnomoremovementafterthat！No；notifyouwouldgiveyoursoultomakehimstirafinger！Ah，terrible！Yes，yes；Iwouldfainflingmyselfdownfortheverydreadofit，thatI

mightendureitonceforall，anddreamofitnomorel"

"Howforcibly，howfrightfullyyouconceivethis！"saidthesculptor，aghastatthepassionatehorrorwhichwasbetrayedintheCount\'swords，andstillmoreinhiswildgesturesandghastlylook。"Nay，iftheheightofyourtoweraffectsyourimaginationthus，youdowrongtotrustyourselfhereinsolitude，andinthenight-time，andatallunguardedhours。Youarenotsafeinyourchamber。Itisbutasteportwo；andwhatifavividdreamshouldleadyouuphitheratmidnight，andactitselfoutasareality！"

Donatellohadhiddenhisfaceinhishands，andwasleaningagainsttheparapet。

"Nofearofthat！"saidhe。"Whateverthedreammaybe，Iamtoogenuineacowardtoactoutmyowndeathinit。"

Theparoxysmpassedaway，andthetwofriendscontinuedtheirdesultorytalk，verymuchasifnosuchinterruptionhadoccurred。

Nevertheless，itaffectedthesculptorwithinfinitepitytoseethisyoungman，whohadbeenborntogladnessasanassuredheritage，nowinvolvedinamistybewildermentofgrievousthoughts，amidwhichheseemedtogostaggeringblindfold。Kenyon，notwithoutanunshapedsuspicionofthedefinitefact，knewthathisconditionmusthaveresultedfromtheweightandgloomoflife，nowfirst，throughtheagencyofasecrettrouble，makingthemselvesfeltonacharacterthathadheretoforebreathedonlyanatmosphereofjoy。Theeffectofthishardlesson，uponDonatello\'sintellectanddisposition，wasverystriking。Itwasperceptiblethathehadalreadyhadglimpsesofstrangeandsubtlemattersinthosedarkcaverns，intowhichallmenmustdescend，iftheywouldknowanythingbeneaththesurfaceandillusivepleasuresofexistence。Andwhentheyemerge，thoughdazzledandblindedbythefirstglareofdaylight，theytaketruerandsadderviewsoflifeforeverafterwards。

Fromsomemysterioussource，asthesculptorfeltassured，asoulhadbeeninspiredintotheyoungCount\'ssimplicity，sincetheirintercourseinRome。Henowshowedafardeepersense，andanintelligencethatbegantodealwithhighsubjects，thoughinafeebleandchildishway。Heevinced，too，amoredefiniteandnoblerindividuality，butdevelopedoutofgriefandpain，andfearfullyconsciousofthepangsthathadgivenitbirth。Everyhumanlife，ifitascendstotruthordelvesdowntoreality，mustundergoasimilarchange；butsometimes，perhaps，theinstructioncomeswithoutthesorrow；andoftenerthesorrowteachesnolessonthatabideswithus。

InDonatello\'scase，itwaspitiful，andalmostludicrous，toobservetheconfusedstrugglethathemade；howcompletelyhewastakenbysurprise；howill-preparedhestood，onthisoldbattlefieldoftheworld，tofightwithsuchaninevitablefoeasmortalcalamity，andsinforitsstrongerally。

"Andyet，"thoughtKenyon，"thepoorfellowbearshimselflikeahero，too！Ifhewouldonlytellmehistrouble，orgivemeanopeningtospeakfranklyaboutit，Imighthelphim；buthefindsittoohorribletobeuttered，andfancieshimselftheonlymortalthateverfelttheanguishofremorse。Yes；hebelievesthatnobodyeverenduredhisagonybefore；sothat——sharpenoughinitself——ithasalltheadditionalzestofatorturejustinventedtoplaguehimindividually。"

Thesculptorendeavoredtodismissthepainfulsubjectfromhismind；

and，leaningagainstthebattlements，heturnedhisfacesouthwardandwestward，andgazedacrossthebreadthofthevalley。Histhoughtsflewfarbeyondeventhosewideboundaries，takinganair-linefromDonatello\'stowertoanotherturretthatascendedintotheskyofthesummerafternoon，invisiblytohim，abovetheroofsofdistantRome。

ThenrosetumultuouslyintohisconsciousnessthatstrongloveforHilda，whichitwashishabittoconfineinoneoftheheart\'sinnerchambers，becausehehadfoundnoencouragementtobringitforward。

Butnowhefeltastrangepullathisheart-strings。Itcouldnothavebeenmoreperceptible，ifallthewaybetweenthesebattlementsandHilda\'sdove-cotehadstretchedanexquisitelysensitivecord，which，atthehitherend，wasknottedwithhisaforesaidheart-strings，and，attheremoterone，wasgraspedbyagentlehand。Hisbreathgrewtremulous。Heputhishandtohisbreast；sodistinctlydidheseemtofeelthatcorddrawnonce，andagain，andagain，asif——thoughstillitwasbashfullyintimatedtherewereanimportunatedemandforhispresence。OforthewhitewingsofHilda\'sdoves，thathemight，haveflownthither，andalightedattheVirgin\'sshrine！

Butlovers，andKenyonknewitwell，projectsolifelikeacopyoftheirmistressesoutoftheirownimaginations，thatitcanpullattheheartstringsalmostasperceptiblyasthegenuineoriginal。Noairyintimationsaretobetrusted；noevidencesofresponsiveaffectionlesspositivethanwhisperedandbrokenwords，ortenderpressuresofthehand，allowedandhalfreturned；orglances，thatdistilmanypassionateavowalsintoonegleamofrichlycoloredlight。

Eventheseshouldbeweighedrigorously，attheinstant；for，inanotherinstant，theimaginationseizesonthemasitsproperty，andstampsthemwithitsownarbitraryvalue。ButHilda\'smaidenlyreservehadgivenherlovernosuchtokens，tobeinterpretedeitherbyhishopesorfears。

"Yonder，overmountainandvalley，liesRome，"saidthesculptor；

"shallyoureturnthitherintheautumn？"

"Never！IhateRome，"answeredDonatello；"andhavegoodcause。"

"Andyetitwasapleasantwinterthatwespentthere，"observedKenyon，"andwithpleasantfriendsaboutus。Youwouldmeetthemagainthere——allofthem。"

"All？"askedDonatello。

"All，tothebestofmybelief，"saidthesculptor："butyouneednotgotoRometoseekthem。Iftherewereoneofthosefriendswhoselifetimewastwistedwithyourown，Iamenoughofafatalisttofeelassuredthatyouwillmeetthatoneagain，wanderwhitheryoumay。

NeithercanweescapethecompanionswhomProvidenceassignsforus，byclimbinganoldtowerlikethis。"

"Yetthestairsaresteepanddark，"rejoinedtheCount；"nonebutyourselfwouldseekmehere，orfindme，iftheysought。"

AsDonatellodidnottakeadvantageofthisopeningwhichhisfriendhadkindlyaffordedhimtopourouthishiddentroubles，thelatteragainthrewasidethesubject，andreturnedtotheenjoymentofthescenebeforehim。Thethunder-storm，whichhehadbeheldstridingacrossthevalley，hadpassedtotheleftofMonteBeni，andwascontinuingitsmarchtowardsthehillsthatformedtheboundaryontheeastward。Abovethewholevalley，indeed，theskywasheavywithtumblingvapors，interspersedwithwhichweretractsofblue，vividlybrightenedbythesun；but，intheeast，wherethetempestwasyettrailingitsraggedskirts，layaduskyregionofcloudandsullenmist，inwhichsomeofthehillsappearedofadarkpurplehue。

Othersbecamesoindistinct，thatthespectatorcouldnottellrockyheightfromimpalpablecloud。Farintothismistycloudregion，however，——withinthedomainofchaos，asitwere，——hilltopswereseenbrighteninginthesunshine；theylookedlikefragmentsoftheworld，brokenadriftandbasedonnothingness，orlikeportionsofaspheredestinedtoexist，butnotyetfinallycompacted。

Thesculptor，habituallydrawingmanyoftheimagesandillustrationsofhisthoughtsfromtheplasticart，fanciedthatthescenerepresentedtheprocessoftheCreator，whenheheldthenew，imperfectearthinhishand，andmodelledit。

"Whatamagicisinmistandvaporamongthemountains！"heexclaimed。

"Withtheirhelp，onesinglescenebecomesathousand。Thecloudscenerygivessuchvarietytoahillylandscapethatitwouldbeworthwhiletojournalizeitsaspectfromhourtohour。Acloud，however，——asIhavemyselfexperienced，——isapttogrowsolidandasheavyasastonetheinstantthatyoutakeinhandtodescribeit，But，inmyownheart，Ihavefoundgreatuseinclouds。Suchsilveryonesasthosetothenorthward，forexample，haveoftensuggestedsculpturesquegroups，figures，andattitudes；theyareespeciallyrichinattitudesoflivingrepose，whichasculptoronlyhitsuponbytherarestgoodfortune。WhenIgobacktomydearnativeland，thecloudsalongthehorizonwillbemyonlygalleryofart！"

"Icanseecloudshapes，too，"saidDonatello；"yonderisonethatshiftsstrangely；ithasbeenlikepeoplewhomIknew。Andnow，ifI

watchitalittlelonger，itwilltakethefigureofamonkreclining，withhiscowlabouthisheadanddrawnpartlyoverhisface，and——well！

didInottellyouso？"

"Ithink，"remarkedKenyon，"wecanhardlybegazingatthesamecloud。

WhatIbeholdisarecliningfigure，tobesure，butfeminine，andwithadespondentair，wonderfullywellexpressedinthewaveringoutlinefromheadtofoot。Itmovesmyveryheartbysomethingindefinablethatitsuggests。"

"Iseethefigure，andalmosttheface，"saidtheCount；adding，inalowervoice，"ItisMiriam\'s！"

"No，notMiriam\'s，"answeredthesculptor。Whilethetwogazersthusfoundtheirownreminiscencesandpresentimentsfloatingamongtheclouds，thedaydrewtoitsclose，andnowshowedthemthefairspectacleofanItaliansunset。Theskywassoftandbright，butnotsogorgeousasKenyonhadseenit，athousandtimes，inAmerica；fortherethewesternskyiswonttobesetaflamewithbreadthsanddepthsofcolorwithwhichpoetsseekinvaintodyetheirverses，andwhichpaintersneverdaretocopy。AsbeheldfromthetowerofMonteBeni，thescenewastenderlymagnificent，withmildgradationsofhueandalavishoutpouringofgold，butrathersuchgoldasweseeontheleafofabrightflowerthantheburnishedglowofmetalfromthemine。

Or，ifmetallic，itlookedairyandunsubstantial，liketheglorifieddreamsofanalchemist。Andspeedily——morespeedilythaninourownclime——camethetwilight，and，brighteningthroughitsgraytransparency，thestars。

Aswarmofminuteinsectsthathadbeenhoveringalldayroundthebattlementswerenowsweptawaybythefreshnessofarisingbreeze。

ThetwoowlsinthechamberbeneathDonatello\'sutteredtheirsoftmelancholycry，——which，withnationalavoidanceofharshsounds，Italianowlssubstituteforthehootoftheirkindredinothercountries，——andflewdarklingforthamongtheshrubbery。Aconventbellrangoutnearathand，andwasnotonlyechoedamongthehills，butansweredbyanotherbell，andstillanother，whichdoubtlesshadfartherandfartherresponses，atvariousdistancesalongthevalley；

for，liketheEnglishdrumbeataroundtheglobe，thereisachainofconventbellsfromendtoend，andcrosswise，andinallpossibledirectionsoverpriest-riddenItaly。

"Come，"saidthesculptor，"theeveningairgrowscool。Itistimetodescend。"

"Timeforyou，myfriend，"repliedtheCount；andhehesitatedalittlebeforeadding，"Imustkeepavigilhereforsomehourslonger。

Itismyfrequentcustomtokeepvigils，——andsometimesthethoughtoccurstomewhetheritwerenotbettertokeeptheminyonderconvent，thebellofwhichjustnowseemedtosummonme。ShouldIdowisely，doyouthink，toexchangethisoldtowerforacell？"

"What！Turnmonk？"exclaimedhisfriend。"Ahorribleidea！"

"True，"saidDonatello，sighing。"Therefore，ifatall，Ipurposedoingit。"

"Thenthinkofitnomore，forHeaven\'ssake！"criedthesculptor。

"Thereareathousandbetterandmorepoignantmethodsofbeingmiserablethanthat，iftobemiserableiswhatyouwish。Nay；I

questionwhetheramonkkeepshimselfuptotheintellectualandspiritualheightwhichmiseryimplies。AmonkIjudgefromtheirsensualphysiognomies，whichmeetmeateveryturn——isinevitablyabeast！Theirsouls，iftheyhaveanytobeginwith，perishoutofthem，beforetheirsluggish，swinishexistenceishalfdone。Better，amilliontimes，tostandstar-gazingontheseairybattlements，thantosmotheryournewgermofahigherlifeinamonkishcell！"

"Youmakemetremble，"saidDonatello，"byyourboldaspersionofmenwhohavedevotedthemselvestoGod\'sservice！"

"TheyserveneitherGodnorman，andthemselvesleastofall，thoughtheirmotivesbeutterlyselfish，"repliedKenyon。"Avoidtheconvent，mydearfriend，asyouwouldshunthedeathofthesoul！But，formyownpart，ifIhadaninsupportableburden，——if，foranycause，Iwerebentuponsacrificingeveryearthlyhopeasapeace-offeringtowardsHeaven，——Iwouldmakethewideworldmycell，andgooddeedstomankindmyprayer。Manypenitentmenhavedonethis，andfoundpeaceinit。"

"Ah，butyouareaheretic！"saidtheCount。

Yethisfacebrightenedbeneaththestars；and，lookingatitthroughthetwilight，thesculptor\'sremembrancewentbacktothatsceneintheCapitol，where，bothinfeaturesandexpression，DonatellohadseemedidenticalwiththeFaun。Andstilltherewasaresemblance；

fornow，whenfirsttheideawassuggestedoflivingforthewelfareofhisfellow-creatures，theoriginalbeauty，whichsorrowhadpartlyeffaced，camebackelevatedandspiritualized。IntheblackdepthstheFaunhadfoundasoul，andwasstrugglingwithittowardsthelightofheaven。

Theillumination，itistrue，soonfadedoutofDonatello\'sface。Theideaoflifelongandunselfisheffortwastoohightobereceivedbyhimwithmorethanamomentarycomprehension。AnItalian，indeed，seldomdreamsofbeingphilanthropic，exceptinbestowingalmsamongthepaupers，whoappealtohisbeneficenceateverystep；nordoesitoccurtohimthattherearefittermodesofpropitiatingHeaventhanbypenances，pilgrimages，andofferingsatshrines。Perhaps，too，theirsystemhasitsshareofmoraladvantages；they，atallevents，cannotwellpridethemselves，asourownmoreenergeticbenevolenceisapttodo，uponsharinginthecounselsofProvidenceandkindlyhelpingoutitsotherwiseimpracticabledesigns。

Andnowthebroadvalleytwinkledwithlights，thatglimmeredthroughitsduskinesslikethefirefliesinthegardenofaFlorentinepalace。

Agleamoflightningfromtherearofthetempestshowedthecircumferenceofhillsandthegreatspacebetween，asthelastcannonflashofaretreatingarmyreddensacrossthefieldwhereithasfought。Thesculptorwasonthepointofdescendingtheturretstair，when，somewhereinthedarknessthatlaybeneaththem，awoman\'svoicewasheard，singingalow，sadstrain。

"Hark！"saidhe，layinghishandonDonatello\'sarm。

AndDonatellohadsaid"Hark！"atthesameinstant。

Thesong，ifsongitcouldbecalled，thathadonlyawildrhythm，andflowedforthinthefitfulmeasureofawind-harp，didnotclotheitselfinthesharpbrilliancyoftheItaliantongue。Thewords，sofarastheycouldbedistinguished，wereGerman，andthereforeunintelligibletotheCount，andhardlylesssotothesculptor；beingsoftenedandmolten，asitwere，intothemelancholyrichnessofthevoicethatsungthem。Itwasasthemurmurofasoulbewilderedamidthesinfulgloomofearth，andretainingonlyenoughmemoryofabetterstatetomakesadmusicofthewail，whichwouldelsehavebeenadespairingshriek。Neverwasthereprofounderpathosthanbreathedthroughthatmysteriousvoice；itbroughtthetearsintothesculptor\'seyes，withremembrancesandforebodingsofwhateversorrowhehadfeltorapprehended；itmadeDonatellosob，aschiminginwiththeanguishthathefoundunutterable，andgivingittheexpressionwhichhevaguelysought。

But，whentheemotionwasatitsprofoundestdepth，thevoiceroseoutofit，yetsograduallythatagloomseemedtopervadeit，farupwardfromtheabyss，andnotentirelytofallawayasitascendedintoahigherandpurerregion。Atlast，theauditorswouldhavefanciedthatthemelody，withitsrichsweetnessallthere，andmuchofitssorrowgone，wasfloatingaroundtheverysummitofthetower。

"Donatello，"saidthesculptor，whentherewassilenceagain，"hadthatvoicenomessageforyourear？"

"Idarenotreceiveit，"saidDonatello；"theanguishofwhichitspokeabideswithme：thehopediesawaywiththebreaththatbroughtithither。Itisnotgoodformetohearthatvoice。"

Thesculptorsighed，andleftthepoorpenitentkeepinghisvigilonthetower。

CHAPTERXXX

DONATELLO\'SBUST

Kenyon，itwillberemembered，hadaskedDonatello\'spermissiontomodelhisbust。Theworkhadnowmadeconsiderableprogress，andnecessarilykeptthesculptor\'sthoughtsbroodingmuchandoftenuponhishost\'spersonalcharacteristics。Theseitwashisdifficultofficetobringoutfromtheirdepths，andinterpretthemtoallmen，showingthemwhattheycouldnotdiscernforthemselves，yetmustbecompelledtorecognizeataglance，onthesurfaceofablockofmarble。

Hehadneverundertakenaportrait-bustwhichgavehimsomuchtroubleasDonatello\'s；notthattherewasanyspecialdifficultyinhittingthelikeness，thougheveninthisrespectthegraceandharmonyofthefeaturesseemedinconsistentwithaprominentexpressionofindividuality；buthewaschieflyperplexedhowtomakethisgenialandkindtypeofcountenancetheindexofthemindwithin。Hisacutenessandhissympathies，indeed，werebothsomewhatatfaultintheireffortstoenlightenhimastothemoralphasethroughwhichtheCountwasnowpassing。Ifatonesittinghecaughtaglimpseofwhatappearedtobeagenuineandpermanenttrait，itwouldprobablybelessperceptibleonasecondoccasion，andperhapshavevanishedentirelyatathird。Soevanescentashowofcharacterthrewthesculptorintodespair；notmarbleorclay，butcloudandvapor，wasthematerialinwhichitoughttoberepresented。EventheponderousdepressionwhichconstantlyweigheduponDonatello\'sheartcouldnotcompelhimintothekindofreposewhichtheplasticartrequires。

Hopelessofagoodresult，Kenyongaveupallpreconceptionsaboutthecharacterofhissubject，andlethishandsworkuncontrolledwiththeclay，somewhatasaspiritualmedium，whileholdingapen，yieldsittoanunseenguidanceotherthanthatofherownwill。Nowandthenhefanciedthatthisplanwasdestinedtobethesuccessfulone。A

skillandinsightbeyondhisconsciousnessseemedoccasionallytotakeupthetask。Themystery，themiracle，ofimbuinganinanimatesubstancewiththought，feeling，andalltheintangibleattributesofthesoul，appearedonthevergeofbeingwrought。Andnow，asheflatteredhimself，thetrueimageofhisfriendwasabouttoemergefromthefacilematerial，bringingwithitmoreofDonatello\'scharacterthanthekeenestobservercoulddetectatanyonemomentinthefaceoftheoriginalVainexpectation！——sometouch，wherebytheartistthoughttoimproveorhastentheresult，interferedwiththedesignofhisunseenspiritualassistant，andspoiltthewhole。Therewasstillthemoist，brownclay，indeed，andthefeaturesofDonatello，butwithoutanysemblanceofintelligentandsympatheticlife。

"Thedifficultywilldrivememad，Iverilybelieve！"criedthesculptornervously。"Lookatthewretchedpieceofworkyourself，mydearfriend，andtellmewhetheryourecognizeanymanneroflikenesstoyourinnerman？"

"None，"repliedDonatello，speakingthesimpletruth。"Itislikelookingastrangerintheface。"

Thisfranklyunfavorabletestimonysowroughtwiththesensitiveartist，thathefellintoapassionwiththestubbornimage，andcarednotwhatmighthappentoitthenceforward。Wieldingthatwonderfulpowerwhichsculptorspossessovermoistclay，howeverrefractoryitmayshowitselfincertainrespects，hecompressed，elongated，widened，andotherwisealteredthefeaturesofthebustinmererecklessness，andateverychangeinquiredoftheCountwhethertheexpressionbecameanywisemoresatisfactory。

"Stop！"criedDonatelloatlast，catchingthesculptor\'shand。"Letitremainso！"Bysomeaccidentalhandlingoftheclay，entirelyindependentofhisownwill，Kenyonhadgiventhecountenanceadistortedandviolentlook，combininganimalfiercenesswithintelligenthatred。HadHilda，orhadMiriam，seenthebust，withtheexpressionwhichithadnowassumed，theymighthaverecognizedDonatello\'sfaceastheybehelditatthatterriblemomentwhenheheldhisvictimovertheedgeoftheprecipice。

"WhathaveIdone？"saidthesculptor，shockedathisowncasualproduction。"Itwereasintolettheclaywhichbearsyourfeatureshardenintoalooklikethat。Cainneverworeanuglierone。"

"Forthatveryreason，letitremain！"answeredtheCount，whohadgrownpaleasashesattheaspectofhiscrime，thusstrangelypresentedtohiminanotherofthemanyguisesunderwhichguiltstaresthecriminalintheface。"Donotalterit！Chiselit，rather，ineternalmarble！Iwillsetitupinmyoratoryandkeepitcontinuallybeforemyeyes。Sadderandmorehorribleisafacelikethis，alivewithmyowncrime，thanthedeadskullwhichmyforefathershandeddowntome！"

But，withoutintheleastheedingDonatello\'sremonstrances，thesculptoragainappliedhisartfulfingerstotheclay，andcompelledthebusttodismisstheexpressionthathadsostartledthemboth。

"Believeme，"saidhe，turninghiseyesuponhisfriend，fullofgraveandtendersympathy，"youknownotwhatisrequisiteforyourspiritualgrowth，seeking，asyoudo，tokeepyoursoulperpetuallyintheunwholesomeregionofremorse。Itwasneedfulforyoutopassthroughthatdarkvalley，butitisinfinitelydangeroustolingertheretoolong；thereispoisonintheatmosphere，whenwesitdownandbroodinit，insteadofgirdingupourloinstopressonward。Notdespondency，notslothfulanguish，iswhatyounowrequire，——buteffort！Hastherebeenanunalterableevilinyouryounglife？Thencrowditoutwithgood，oritwillliecorruptingthereforever，andcauseyourcapacityforbetterthingstopartakeitsnoisomecorruption！"

"Youstirupmanythoughts，"saidDonatello，pressinghishanduponhisbrow，"butthemultitudeandthewhirlofthemmakemedizzy。"

Theynowleftthesculptor\'stemporarystudio，withoutobservingthathislastaccidentaltouches，withwhichhehurriedlyeffacedthelookofdeadlyrage，hadgiventhebustahigherandsweeterexpressionthanithadhithertoworn。ItistoberegrettedthatKenyonhadnotseenit；foronlyanartist，perhaps，canconceivetheirksomeness，theirritationofbrain，thedepressionofspirits，thatresultedfromhisfailuretosatisfyhimself，aftersomuchtoilandthoughtashehadbestowedonDonatello\'sbust。Incaseofsuccess，indeed，allthisthoughtfultoilwouldhavebeenreckoned，notonlyaswellbestowed，butasamongthehappiesthoursofhislife；whereas，deeminghimselftohavefailed，itwasjustsomuchoflifethathadbetterneverhavebeenlived；forthusdoesthegoodorillresultofhislaborthrowbacksunshineorgloomupontheartist\'smind。Thesculptor，therefore，wouldhavedonewelltoglanceagainathiswork；

forherewerestillthefeaturesoftheantiqueFaun，butnowilluminatedwithahighermeaning，suchastheoldmarbleneverbore。

Donatellohavingquittedhim，KenyonspenttherestofthedaystrollingaboutthepleasantprecinctsofMonteBeni，wherethesummerwasnowsofaradvancedthatitbegan，indeed，topartakeoftheripewealthofautumn。Apricotshadlongbeenabundant，andhadpassedaway，andplumsandcherriesalongwiththem。Butnowcamegreat，juicypears，meltinganddelicious，andpeachesofgoodlysizeandtemptingaspect，thoughcoldandwaterytothepalate，comparedwiththesculptor\'srichreminiscencesofthatfruitinAmerica。Thepurplefigshadalreadyenjoyedtheirday，andthewhiteoneswerelusciousnow。Thecontadini(who，bythistime，knewKenyonwell)

foundmanyclustersofripegrapesforhim，ineverylittleglobeofwhichwasincludedafragrantdraughtofthesunnyMonteBeniwine。

Unexpectedly，inanookclosebythefarmhouse，hehappeneduponaspotwherethevintagehadactuallycommenced。Agreatheapofearlyripenedgrapeshadbeengathered，andthrownintoamightytub。Inthemiddleofitstoodalustyandjollycontadino，norstood，merely，butstampedwithallhismight，anddancedamain；whiletheredjuicebathedhisfeet，andthrewitsfoammidwayuphisbrownandshaggylegs。Here，then，wastheveryprocessthatshowssopicturesquelyinScriptureandinpoetry，oftreadingoutthewine-pressanddyeingthefeetandgarmentswiththecrimsoneffusionaswiththebloodofabattlefield。ThememoryoftheprocessdoesnotmaketheTuscanwinetastemoredeliciously。ThecontadinihospitablyofferedKenyonasampleofthenewliquor，thathadalreadystoodfermentingforadayortwo。Hehadtriedasimilardraught，however，inyearspast，andwaslittleinclinedtomakeproofofitagain；forheknewthatitwouldbeasourandbitterjuice，awineofwoeandtribulation，andthatthemoreamandrinksofsuchliquor，thesorrierheislikelytobe。

ThesceneremindedthesculptorofourNewEnglandvintages，wherethebigpilesofgoldenandrosyappleslieundertheorchardtrees，inthemild，autumnalsunshine；andthecreakingcider-mill，setinmotionbyacircumgyratoryhorse，isalla-gushwiththelusciousjuice。Tospeakfrankly，thecider-makingisthemorepicturesquesightofthetwo，andthenew，sweetcideraninfinitelybetterdrinkthantheordinary，unripeTuscanwine。Suchasitis，however，thelatterfillsthousandsuponthousandsofsmall，flatbarrels，and，stillgrowingthinnerandsharper，losesthelittlelifeithad，aswine，andbecomesapotheosizedasamorepraiseworthyvinegar。

Yetallthesevineyardscenes，andtheprocessesconnectedwiththecultureofthegrape，hadaflavorofpoetryaboutthem。Thetoilthatproducesthosekindlygiftsofnaturewhicharenotthesubstanceoflife，butitsluxury，isunlikeothertoil。Weareinclinedtofancythatitdoesnotbendthesturdyframeandstiffentheoverwroughtmuscles，likethelaborthatisdevotedinsad，hardearnesttoraisegrainforsourbread。Certainly，thesunburntyoungmenanddark-cheeked，laughinggirls，whoweededtherichacresofMonteBeni，mightwellenoughhavepassedforinhabitantsofanunsophisticatedArcadia。Laterintheseason，whenthetruevintagetimeshouldcome，andthewineofSunshinegushintothevats，itwashardlytoowildadreamthatBacchushimselfmightrevisitthehauntswhichhelovedofold。But，alas！wherenowwouldhefindtheFaunwithwhomweseehimconsortinginsomanyanantiquegroup？

Donatello\'sremorsefulanguishsaddenedthisprimitiveanddelightfullife。Kenyonhadapainofhisown，moreover，althoughnotallapain，intheneverquiet，neversatisfiedyearningofhishearttowardsHilda。Hewasauthorizedtouselittlefreedomtowardsthatshymaiden，eveninhisvisions；sothathealmostreproachedhimselfwhensometimeshisimaginationpicturedindetailthesweetyearsthattheymightspendtogether，inaretreatlikethis。IthadjustthatrarestqualityofremotenessfromtheactualandordinaryworldBaremotenessthroughwhichalldelightsmightvisitthemfreely，siftedfromalltroubles——whichloverssoreasonablyinsistupon，intheiridealarrangementsforahappyunion。Itispossible，indeed，thatevenDonatello\'sgriefandKenyon\'spale，sunlessaffectionlentacharmtoMonteBeni，whichitwouldnothaveretainedamidamoreabundantjoyousness。Thesculptorstrayedamiditsvineyardsandorchards，itsdellsandtangledshrubberies，withsomewhatthesensationsofanadventurerwhoshouldfindhiswaytothesiteofancientEden，andbeholditslovelinessthroughthetransparencyofthatgloomwhichhasbeenbroodingoverthosehauntsofinnocenceeversincethefall。Adamsawitinabrightersunshine，butneverknewtheshadeofPensivebeautywhichEdenwonfromhisexpulsion。

ItwasinthedeclineoftheafternoonthatKenyonreturnedfromhislong，musingramble，OldTomaso——betweenwhomandhimselfforsometimepasttherehadbeenamysteriousunderstanding，——methimintheentrancehall，anddrewhimalittleaside。

"Thesignorinawouldspeakwithyou，"hewhispered。

"Inthechapel？"askedthesculptor。

"No；inthesaloonbeyondit，"answeredthebutler："theentranceyouoncesawthesignorinaappearthroughitisnearthealtar，hiddenbehindthetapestry。"

Kenyonlostnotimeinobeyingthesummons。

CHAPTERXXXI

THEMARBLESALOON

InanoldTuscanvilla，achapelordinarilymakesoneamongthenumerousapartments；thoughitoftenhappensthatthedoorispermanentlyclosed，thekeylost，andtheplacelefttoitself，industysanctity，likethatchamberinman\'sheartwherehehideshisreligiousawe。ThiswasverymuchthecasewiththechapelofMonteBeni。Onerainyday，however，inhiswanderingsthroughthegreat，intricatehouse，Kenyonhadunexpectedlyfoundhiswayintoit，andbeenimpressedbyitssolemnaspect。Thearchedwindows，highupwardinthewall，anddarkenedwithdustandcobweb，threwdownadimlightthatshowedthealtar，withapictureofamartyrdomabove，andsometalltapersrangedbeforeit。Theyhadapparentlybeenlighted，andburnedanhourortwo，andbeenextinguishedperhapshalfacenturybefore。Themarblevaseattheentranceheldsomehardenedmudatthebottom，accruingfromthedustthathadsettledinitduringthegradualevaporationoftheholywater；andaspider(beinganinsectthatdelightsinpointingthemoralofdesolationandneglect)hadtakenpainstoweaveaprodigiouslythicktissueacrossthecircularbrim。Anoldfamilybanner，tatteredbythemoths，droopedfromthevaultedroof。InnichesthereweresomemediaevalbustsofDonatello\'sforgottenancestry；andamongthem，itmightbe，theforlornvisageofthathaplessknightbetweenwhomandthefountain-nymphhadoccurredsuchtenderlovepassages。

ThroughoutallthejovialprosperityofMonteBeni，thisonespotwithinthedomesticwallshadkeptitselfsilent，stern，andsad。

Whentheindividualorthefamilyretiredfromsongandmirth，theyheresoughtthoserealitieswhichmendonotinvitetheirfestiveassociatestoshare。Andhere，ontheoccasionabovereferredto，thesculptorhaddiscovered——accidentally，sofarashewasconcerned，thoughwithapurposeonherpart——thattherewasaguestunderDonatello\'sroof，whosepresencetheCountdidnotsuspect。Aninterviewhadsincetakenplace，andhewasnowsummonedtoanother。

Hecrossedthechapel，incompliancewithTomaso\'sinstructions，and，passingthroughthesideentrance，foundhimselfinasaloon，ofnogreatsize，butmoremagnificentthanhehadsupposedthevillatocontain。Asitwasvacant，Kenyonhadleisuretopaceitonceortwice，andexamineitwithacarelesssortofscrutiny，beforeanypersonappeared。

Thisbeautifulhallwasflooredwithrichmarbles，inartisticallyarrangedfiguresandcompartments。Thewalls，likewise，werealmostentirelycasedinmarbleofvariouskinds，theprevalent，varietybeinggialloantico，intermixedwithverd-antique，andothersequallyprecious。Thesplendorofthegialloantico，however，waswhatgavecharactertothesaloon；andthelargeanddeepniches，apparentlyintendedforfulllengthstatues，alongthewalls，werelinedwiththesamecostlymaterial。WithoutvisitingItaly，onecanhavenoideaofthebeautyandmagnificencethatareproducedbythesefittings-upofpolishedmarble。Withoutsuchexperience，indeed，wedonotevenknowwhatmarblemeans，inanysense，saveasthewhitelimestoneofwhichwecarveourmantelpieces。ThisrichhallofMonteBeni，moreover，wasadorned，atitsupperend，withtwopillarsthatseemedtoconsistofOrientalalabaster；andwherevertherewasaspacevacantofpreciousandvariegatedmarble，itwasfrescoedwithornamentsinarabesque。Above，therewasacovedandvaultedceiling，glowingwithpicturedscenes，whichaffectedKenyonwithavaguesenseofsplendor，withouthistwistinghisnecktogazeatthem。

Itisoneofthespecialexcellencesofsuchasaloonofpolishedandrichlycoloredmarble，thatdecaycannevertarnishit。Untilthehousecrumblesdownuponit，itshinesindestructibly，and，withalittledusting，looksjustasbrilliantinitsthreehundredthyearasthedayafterthefinalslabofgialloanticowasfittedintothewall。

Tothesculptor，atthisfirstViewofit，itseemedahallwherethesunwasmagicallyimprisoned，andmustalwaysshine。HeanticipatedMiriam\'sentrance，arrayedinqueenlyrobes，andbeamingwithevenmorethanthesingularbeautythathadheretoforedistinguishedher。

Whilethisthoughtwaspassingthroughhismind，thepillareddoor，attheupperendofthesaloon，waspartlyopened，andMiriamappeared。

Shewasverypale，anddressedindeepmourning。Assheadvancedtowardsthesculptor，thefeeblenessofherstepwassoapparentthathemadehastetomeether，apprehendingthatshemightsinkdownonthemarblefloor，withouttheinstantsupportofhisarm。

But，withagleamofhernaturalself-reliance，shedeclinedhisaid，and，aftertouchinghercoldhandtohis，wentandsatdownononeofthecushioneddivansthatwererangedagainstthewall。

"Youareveryill，Miriam！"saidKenyon，muchshockedatherappearance。"Ihadnotthoughtofthis。"

"No；notsoillasIseemtoyou，"sheanswered；addingdespondently，"yetIamillenough，Ibelieve，todie，unlesssomechangespeedilyoccurs。"

"What，then，isyourdisorder？"askedthesculptor；"andwhattheremedy？"

"Thedisorder！"repeatedMiriam。"ThereisnonethatIknowofsavetoomuchlifeandstrength，withoutapurposeforoneortheother。

Itismytooredundantenergythatisslowly——orperhapsrapidly——wearingmeaway，becauseIcanapplyittonouse。Theobject，whichIamboundtoconsidermyonlyoneonearth，failsmeutterly。ThesacrificewhichIyearntomakeofmyself，myhopes，myeverything，iscoldlyputaside。Nothingisleftformebuttobrood，brood，brood，allday，allnight，inunprofitablelongingsandrepinings。"

"Thisisverysad，Miriam，"saidKenyon。

"Ay，indeed；Ifancyso，"shereplied，withashort，unnaturallaugh。

"Withallyouractivityofmind，"resumedhe，"sofertileinplansasIhaveknownyou，canyouimaginenomethodofbringingyourresourcesintoplay？"

"Mymindisnotactiveanylonger，"answeredMiriam，inacold，indifferenttone。"Itdealswithonethoughtandnomore。Onerecollectionparalyzesit。Itisnotremorse；donotthinkit！Iputmyselfoutofthequestion，andfeelneitherregretnorpenitenceonmyownbehalf。Butwhatbenumbsme，whatrobsmeofallpower，-itisnosecretforawomantotellaman，yetIcarenotthoughyouknowit，——isthecertaintythatIam，andmusteverbe，anobjectofhorrorinDonatello\'ssight。"

Thesculptor——ayoungman，andcherishingalovewhichinsulatedhimfromthewildexperienceswhichsomemengather——wasstartledtoperceivehowMiriam\'srich，ill-regulatednatureimpelledhertoflingherself，conscienceandall，ononepassion，theobjectofwhichintellectuallyseemedfarbeneathher。

"Howhaveyouobtainedthecertaintyofwhichyouspeak？"askedhe，afterapause。

"O，byasuretoken，"saidMiriam；"agesture，merely；ashudder，acoldshiver，thatranthroughhimonesunnymorningwhenhishandhappenedtotouchmine！Butitwasenough。"

"Ifirmlybelieve，Miriam，"saidthesculptor，"thathelovesyoustill。"

Shestarted，andaflushofcolorcametremulouslyoverthepalenessofhercheek。

"Yes，"repeatedKenyon，"ifmyinterestinDonatello——andinyourself，Miriam——endowsmewithanytrueinsight，henotonlylovesyoustill，butwithaforceanddepthproportionedtothestrongergraspofhisfaculties，intheirnewdevelopment。"

"Donotdeceiveme，"saidMiriam，growingpaleagain。

"Notfortheworld！"repliedKenyon。"HereiswhatItaketobethetruth。Therewasaninterval，nodoubt，whenthehorrorofsomecalamity，whichIneednotshapeoutinmyconjectures，threwDonatellointoastuporofmisery。Connectedwiththefirstshocktherewasanintolerablepainandshudderingrepugnanceattachingthemselvestoallthecircumstancesandsurroundingsoftheeventthatsoterriblyaffectedhim。Washisdearestfriendinvolvedwithinthehorrorofthatmoment？Hewouldshrinkfromherasheshrankmostofallfromhimself。Butashismindrouseditself，——asitrosetoahigherlifethanhehadhithertoexperienced，——whateverhadbeentrueandpermanentwithinhimrevivedbytheselfsameimpulse。Sohasitbeenwithhislove。"

"But，surely，"saidMiriam，"heknowsthatIamhere！Why，then，exceptthatIamodioustohim，doeshenotbidmewelcome？"

"Heis，Ibelieve，awareofyourpresencehere，"answeredthesculptor。

"Yoursong，anightortwoago，musthaverevealedittohim，and，intruth，Ihadfanciedthattherewasalreadyaconsciousnessofitinhismind。But，themorepassionatelyhelongsforyoursociety，themorereligiouslyhedeemshimselfboundtoavoidit。TheideaofalifelongpenancehastakenstrongpossessionofDonatello。Hegropesblindlyabouthimforsomemethodofsharpself-torture，andfinds，ofcourse，noothersoefficaciousasthis。"

"Buthelovesme，"repeatedMiriam，inalowvoice，toherself。"Yes；

helovesme！"

Itwasstrangetoobservethewomanlysoftnessthatcameoverher，assheadmittedthatcomfortintoherbosom。Thecold，unnaturalindifferenceofhermanner，akindoffrozenpassionatenesswhichhadshockedandchilledthesculptor，disappeared。Sheblushed，andturnedawayhereyes，knowingthattherewasmoresurpriseandjoyintheirdewyglancesthananymansaveoneoughttodetectthere。

"Inotherrespects，"sheinquiredatlength，"ishemuchchanged？"

"AwonderfulprocessisgoingforwardinDonatello\'smind，"answeredthesculptor。"Thegermsoffacultiesthathaveheretoforesleptarefastspringingintoactivity。Theworldofthoughtisdisclosingitselftohisinwardsight。Hestartlesme，attimes，withhisperceptionofdeeptruths；and，quiteasoften，itmustbeowned，hecompelsmetosmilebytheintermixtureofhisformersimplicitywithanewintelligence。Butheisbewilderedwiththerevelationsthateachdaybrings。Outofhisbitteragony，asoulandintellect，I

couldalmostsay，havebeeninspiredintohim。"

"Ah，Icouldhelphimhere！"criedMiriam，claspingherhands。"Andhowsweetatoiltobendandadaptmywholenaturetodohimgood！Toinstruct，toelevate，toenrichhismindwiththewealththatwouldflowinuponme，hadIsuchamotiveforacquiringit！Whoelsecanperformthetask？Whoelsehasthetendersympathywhichherequires？

Whoelse，saveonlyme，——awoman，asharerinthesamedreadsecret，apartakerinoneidenticalguilt，——couldmeethimonsuchtermsofintimateequalityasthecasedemands？Withthisobjectbeforeme，I

mightfeelarighttolive！Withoutit，itisashameformetohavelivedsolong。"

"Ifullyagreewithyou，"saidKenyon，"thatyourtrueplaceisbyhisside。"

"Surelyitis，"repliedMiriam。"IfDonatelloisentitledtoaughtonearth，itistomycompleteself-sacrificeforhissake。Itdoesnotweakenhisclaim，methinks，thatmyonlyprospectofhappinessafearfulword，howeverliesinthegoodthatmayaccruetohimfromourintercourse。Butherejectsme！Hewillnotlistentothewhisperofhisheart，tellinghimthatshe，mostwretched，whobeguiledhimintoevil，mightguidehimtoahigherinnocencethanthatfromwhichhefell。Howisthisfirstgreatdifficultytobeobviated？"

"Itliesatyourownoption，Miriam，todoawaytheobstacle，atanymoment，"remarkedthesculptor。"ItisbuttoascendDonatello\'stower，andyouwillmeethimthere，undertheeyeofGod。"

"Idarenot，"answeredMiriam。"No；Idarenot！"

"Doyoufear，"askedthesculptor，"thedreadeye-witnesswhomIhavenamed？"

"No；for，asfarasIcanseeintothatcloudyandinscrutablething，myheart，ithasnonebutpuremotives，"repliedMiriam。"But，myfriend，youlittleknowwhataweakorwhatastrongcreatureawomanis！IfearnotHeaven，inthiscase，atleast，but——shallIconfessit？IamgreatlyindreadofDonatello。Onceheshudderedatmytouch。Ifheshudderonceagain，orfrown，Idie！"

Kenyoncouldnotbutmarvelatthesubjectionintowhichthisproudandself-dependentwomanhadwillfullyflungherself，hangingherlifeuponthechanceofanangryorfavorableregardfromapersonwho，alittlewhilebefore，hadseemedtheplaythingofamoment。But，inMiriam\'seyes，Donatellowasalways，thenceforth，investedwiththetragicdignityoftheirhourofcrime；and，furthermore，thekeenanddeepinsight，withwhichherloveendowedher，enabledhertoknowhimfarbetterthanhecouldbeknownbyordinaryobservation。Beyondallquestion，sinceshelovedhimso，therewasaforceinDonatelloworthyofherrespectandlove。

"Youseemyweakness，"saidMiriam，flingingoutherhands，asapersondoeswhenadefectisacknowledged，andbeyondremedy。"WhatI

need，now，isanopportunitytoshowmystrength。"

"Ithasoccurredtome，"Kenyonremarked，"thatthetimeiscomewhenitmaybedesirabletoremoveDonatellofromthecompleteseclusioninwhichheburieshimself。Hehasstruggledlongenoughwithoneidea。

Henowneedsavarietyofthought，whichcannotbeotherwisesoreadilysuppliedtohim，asthroughthemediumofavarietyofscenes。

Hismindisawakened，now；hisheart，thoughfullofpain，isnolongerbenumbed。Theyshouldhavefoodandsolace。Ifhelingerheremuchlonger，Ifearthathemaysinkbackintoalethargy。Theextremeexcitability，whichcircumstanceshaveimpartedtohismoralsystem，hasitsdangersanditsadvantages；itbeingoneofthedangers，thatanobduratescarmaysuperveneuponitsverytenderness。

Solitudehasdonewhatitcouldforhim；now，forawhile，lethimbeenticedintotheouterworld。"

"Whatisyourplan，then？"askedMiriam。

"Simply，"repliedKenyon，"topersuadeDonatellotobemycompanioninarambleamongthesehillsandvalleys。Thelittleadventuresandvicissitudesoftravelwilldohiminfinitegood。Afterhisrecentprofoundexperience，hewillre-createtheworldbytheneweyeswithwhichhewillregardit。Hewillescape，Ihope，outofamorbidlife，andfindhiswayintoahealthyone。"

"Andwhatistobemypartinthisprocess？"inquiredMiriamsadly，andnotwithoutjealousy。"Youaretakinghimfromme，andputtingyourself，andallmanneroflivinginterests，intotheplacewhichI

oughttofill！"

"Itwouldrejoiceme，Miriam，toyieldtheentireresponsibilityofthisofficetoyourself，"answeredthesculptor。"IdonotpretendtobetheguideandcounsellorwhomDonatelloneeds；for，tomentionnootherobstacle，Iamaman，andbetweenmanandmanthereisalwaysaninsuperablegulf。Theycanneverquitegraspeachother\'shands；andthereforemanneverderivesanyintimatehelp，anyheartsustenance，fromhisbrotherman，butfromwoman——hismother，hissister，orhiswife。BeDonatello\'sfriendatneed，therefore，andmostgladlywillIresignhim！"

"Itisnotkindtotauntmethus，"saidMiriam。"IhavetoldyouthatIcannotdowhatyousuggest，becauseIdarenot。"

"Well，then，"rejoinedthesculptor，"seeifthereisanypossibilityofadaptingyourselftomyscheme。Theincidentsofajourneyoftenflingpeopletogetherintheoddestandthereforethemostnaturalway。

Supposingyouweretofindyourselfonthesameroute，areunionwithDonatellomightensue，andProvidencehavealargerhandinitthaneitherofus。"

"Itisnotahopefulplan，"saidMiriam，shakingherhead，afteramoment\'sthought；"yetIwillnotrejectitwithoutatrial。Onlyincaseitfail，hereisaresolutiontowhichIbindmyself，comewhatcomemay！YouknowthebronzestatueofPopeJuliusinthegreatsquareofPerugia？Irememberstandingintheshadowofthatstatueonesunnynoontime，andbeingimpressedbyitspaternalaspect，andfancyingthatablessingfelluponmefromitsoutstretchedhand。

Eversince，Ihavehadasuperstition，youwillcallitfoolish，butsadandill-fatedpersonsalwaysdreamsuchthings，——that，ifIwaitedlongenoughinthatsamespot，somegoodeventwouldcometopass。

Well，myfriend，preciselyafortnightafteryoubeginyourtour，——unlesswesoonermeet，——bringDonatello，atnoon，tothebaseofthestatue。Youwillfindmethere！"

Kenyonassentedtotheproposedarrangement，and，aftersomeconversationrespectinghiscontemplatedlineoftravel，preparedtotakehisleave。AshemetMiriam\'seyes，inbiddingfarewell，hewassurprisedatthenew，tendergladnessthatbeamedoutofthem，andattheappearanceofhealthandbloom，which，inthislittlewhile，hadoverspreadherface。\'

"MayItellyou，Miriam，"saidhe，smiling，"thatyouarestillasbeautifulasever？"

"Youhavearighttonoticeit，"shereplied，"for，ifitbeso，myfadedbloomhasbeenrevivedbythehopesyougiveme。Doyou，then，thinkmebeautiful？Irejoice，mosttruly。Beauty——ifIpossessit——shallbeoneoftheinstrumentsbywhichIwilltrytoeducateandelevatehim，towhosegoodIsolelydedicatemyself。"

Thesculptorhadnearlyreachedthedoor，when，hearinghercallhim，heturnedback，andbeheldMiriamstillstandingwherehehadlefther，inthemagnificenthallwhichseemedonlyafitsettingforherbeauty。Shebeckonedhimtoreturn。

"Youareamanofrefinedtaste，"saidshe；"morethanthat，——amanofdelicatesensibility。Nowtellmefrankly，andonyourhonor！HaveI

notshockedyoumanytimesduringthisinterviewbymybetrayalofwoman\'scause，mylackoffemininemodesty，myreckless，passionate，mostindecorousavowal，thatIliveonlyinthelifeofonewho，perhaps，scornsandshuddersatme？"

Thusadjured，howeverdifficultthepointtowhichshebroughthim，thesculptorwasnotamantoswerveasidefromthesimpletruth。

"Miriam，"repliedhe，"youexaggeratetheimpressionmadeuponmymind；

butithasbeenpainful，andsomewhatofthecharacterwhichyousuppose。"

"Iknewit，"saidMiriam，mournfully，andwithnoresentment。"Whatremainsofmyfinernaturewouldhavetoldmeso，evenifithadnotbeenperceptibleinallyourmanner。Well，mydearfriend，whenyougobacktoRome，tellHildawhatherseverityhasdone！Shewasallwomanhoodtome；andwhenshecastmeoff，Ihadnolongeranytermstokeepwiththereservesanddecorumsofmysex。Hildahassetmefree！Praytellherso，fromMiriam，andthankher！"

"IshalltellHildanothingthatwillgiveherpain，"answeredKenyon。

"But，Miriam，thoughIknownotwhatpassedbetweenherandyourself，Ifeel，——andletthenoblefranknessofyourdispositionforgivemeifIsayso，——Ifeelthatshewasright。Youhaveathousandadmirablequalities。Whatevermassofevilmayhavefallenintoyourlife，——pardonme，butyourownwordssuggestit，——youarestillascapableaseverofmanyhighandheroicvirtues。ButthewhiteshiningpurityofHilda\'snatureisathingapart；andsheisbound，bytheundefiledmaterialofwhichGodmouldedher，tokeepthatseveritywhichI，aswellasyou，haverecognized。"

"O，youareright！"saidMiriam；"Ineverquestionedit；though，asI

toldyou，whenshecastmeoff，itseveredsomefewremainingbondsbetweenmeanddecorouswomanhood。Butwerethereanythingtoforgive，Idoforgiveher。Mayyouwinhervirginheart；formethinkstherecanbefewmeninthisevilworldwhoarenotmoreunworthyofherthanyourself。"

CHAPTERXXXII

SCENESBYTHEWAY

WhenitcametothepointofquittingthereposefullifeofMonteBeni，thesculptorwasnotwithoutregrets，andwouldwillinglyhavedreamedalittlelongerofthesweetparadiseonearththatHilda\'spresencetheremightmake。Nevertheless，amidallitsrepose，hehadbeguntobesensibleofarestlessmelancholy，towhichthecultivatorsoftheidealartsaremoreliablethansturdiermen。Onhisownpart，therefore，andleavingDonatellooutofthecase，hewouldhavejudgeditwelltogo。Hemadepartingvisitstothelegendarydell，andtootherdelightfulspotswithwhichhehadgrownfamiliar；heclimbedthetoweragain，andsawasunsetandamoonriseoverthegreatvalley；hedrank，ontheeveofhisdeparture，oneflask，andthenanother，oftheMonteBeniSunshine，andstoredupitsflavorinhismemoryasthestandardofwhatisexquisiteinwine。

Thesethingsaccomplished，Kenyonwasreadyforthejourney。

Donatellohadnotveryeasilybeenstirredoutofthepeculiarsluggishness，whichenthrallsandbewitchesmelancholypeople。Hehadofferedmerelyapassiveresistance，however，notanactiveone，tohisfriend\'sschemes；andwhentheappointedhourcame，heyieldedtotheimpulsewhichKenyonfailednottoapply；andwasstarteduponthejourneybeforehehadmadeuphismindtoundertakeit。Theywanderedforthatlarge，liketwoknights-errant，amongthevalleys，andthemountains，andtheoldmountaintownsofthatpicturesqueandlovelyregion。SavetokeeptheappointmentwithMiriam，afortnightthereafter，inthegreatsquareofPerugia，therewasnothingmoredefiniteinthesculptor\'splanthanthattheyshouldletthemselvesbeblownhitherandthitherlikeWingedseeds，thatmountuponeachwanderingbreeze。YettherewasanideaoffatalityimpliedinthesimileofthewingedseedswhichdidnotaltogethersuitKenyon\'sfancy；for，ifyoulookcloselyintothematter，itwillbeseenthatwhateverappearsmostvagrant，andutterlypurposeless，turnsout，intheend，tohavebeenimpelledthemostsurelyonapreordainedandunswervingtrack。Chanceandchangelovetodealwithmen\'ssettledplans，notwiththeiridlevagaries。Ifwedesireunexpectedandunimaginableevents，weshouldcontriveanironframework，suchaswefancymaycompelthefuturetotakeoneinevitableshape；thencomesintheunexpected，andshattersourdesigninfragments。

Thetravellerssetforthonhorseback，andpurposedtoperformmuchoftheiraimlessjourneyingsunderthemoon，andinthecoolofthemorningoreveningtwilight；themiddaysun，whilesummerhadhardlybeguntotrailitsdepartingskirtsoverTuscany，beingstilltoofervidtoallowofnoontideexposure。

Forawhile，theywanderedinthatsamebroadvalleywhichKenyonhadviewedwithsuchdelightfromtheMonteBenitower。Thesculptorsoonbegantoenjoytheidleactivityoftheirnewlife，whichthelapseofadayortwosufficedtoestablishasakindofsystem；itissonaturalformankindtobenomadic，thataverylittletasteofthatprimitivemodeofexistencesubvertsthesettledhabitsofmanyprecedingyears。Kenyon\'scares，andwhatevergloomyideasbeforepossessedhim，seemedtobeleftatMonteBeni，andwerescarcelyrememberedbythetimethatitsgraytowergrewundistinguishableonthebrownhillside。Hisperceptivefaculties，whichhadfoundlittleexerciseoflate，amidsothoughtfulawayoflife，becamekeen，andkepthiseyesbusywithahundredagreeablescenes。

Hedelightedinthepicturesquebitsofrusticcharacterandmanners，solittleofwhichevercomesuponthesurfaceofourlifeathome。

There，forexample，weretheoldwomen，tendingpigsorsheepbythewayside。Astheyfollowedthevagrantstepsoftheircharge，thesevenerableladieskeptspinningyarnwiththatelsewhereforgottencontrivance，thedistaff；andsowrinkledandsternlookingwerethey，thatyoumighthavetakenthemfortheParcae，spinningthethreadsofhumandestiny。Incontrastwiththeirgreat-grandmotherswerethechildren，leadinggoatsofshaggybeard，tiedbythehorns，andlettingthembrowseonbranchandshrub。ItisthefashionofItalytoaddthepettyindustryofageandchildhoodtothehumofhumantoil。TotheeyesofanobserverfromtheWesternworld，itwasastrangespectacletoseesturdy，sunburntcreatures，inpetticoats，butotherwisemanlike，toilingsidebysidewithmalelaborers，intherudestworkofthefields。Thesesturdywomen(ifassuchwemustrecognizethem)worethehigh-crowned，broadbrimmedhatofTuscanstraw，thecustomaryfemalehead-apparel；and，aseverybreezeblewbackitsbreadthofbrim，thesunshineconstantlyaddeddepthtothebrownglowoftheircheeks。Theeldersisterhood，however，setofftheirwitch-likeuglinesstotheworstadvantagewithblackfelthats，bequeathedthem，onewouldfancy，bytheirlong-buriedhusbands。

Anotherordinarysight，assylvanastheaboveandmoreagreeable，wasagirl，bearingonherbackahugebundleofgreentwigsandshrubs，orgrass，intermixedwithscarletpoppiesandblueflowers；theverdantburdenbeingsometimesofsuchsizeastohidethebearer\'sfigure，andseemaself-movingmassoffragrantbloomandverdure。

Oftener，however，thebundlereachedonlyhalfwaydownthebackoftherusticnymph，leavinginsightherwell-developedlowerlimbs，andthecrookedknife，hangingbehindher，withwhichshehadbeenreapingthisstrangeharvestsheaf。Apre-Raphaeliteartist(he，forinstance，whopaintedsomarvellouslyawind-sweptheapofautumnalleaves)

mightfindanadmirablesubjectinoneoftheseTuscangirls，steppingwithafree，erect，andgracefulcarriage。Themiscellaneousherbageandtangledtwigsandblossomsofherbundle，crowningherhead(whileherruddy，comelyfacelooksoutbetweenthehangingsidefestoonslikealargerflower)，wouldgivethepainterboundlessscopefortheminutedelineationwhichheloves。

Thoughmixedupwithwhatwasrudeandearthlike，therewasstillaremote，dreamlike，Arcadiancharm，whichisscarcelytobefoundinthedailytoilofotherlands。Amongthepleasantfeaturesofthewaysidewerealwaysthevines，clamberingonfig-trees，orothersturdytrunks；theywreathedthemselvesinhugeandrichfestoonsfromonetreetoanother，suspendingclustersofripeninggrapesintheintervalbetween。Undersuchcarelessmodeofculture，theluxuriantvineisalovelierspectaclethanwhereitproducesamorepreciousliquor，andisthereforemoreartificiallyrestrainedandtrimmed。

Nothingcanbemorepicturesquethananoldgrapevine，withalmostatrunkofitsown，clingingfastarounditssupportingtree。Nordoesthepicturelackitsmoral。Youmighttwistittomorethanonegravepurpose，asyousawhowtheknotted，serpentinegrowthimprisonedwithinitsstrongembracethefriendthathadsupporteditstenderinfancy；andhow(asseeminglyflexiblenaturesarepronetodo)itconvertedthesturdiertreeentirelytoitsownselfishends，extendingitsinnumerablearmsoneverybough，andpermittinghardlyaleaftosproutexceptitsown。ItoccurredtoKenyon，thattheenemiesofthevine，inhisnativeland，mightherehaveseenanemblemoftheremorselessgripe，whichthehabitofvinousenjoymentlaysuponitsvictim，possessinghimwholly，andlettinghimlivenolifebutsuchasitbestows。

Thescenewasnotlesscharacteristicwhentheirpathledthetwowanderersthroughsomesmall，ancienttown。There，besidesthepeculiaritiesofpresentlife，theysawtokensofthelifethathadlongagobeenlivedandflungaside。Thelittletown，suchasweseeinourmind\'seye，wouldhaveitsgateanditssurroundingwalls，soancientandmassivethatageshadnotsufficedtocrumblethemaway；

butintheloftyupperportionofthegateway，stillstandingovertheemptyarch，wheretherewasnolongeragatetoshut，therewouldbeadove-cote，andpeacefuldovesfortheonlywarders。Pumpkinslayripeningintheopenchambersofthestructure。Then，asforthetownwall，ontheoutsideanorchardextendspeacefullyalongitsbase，full，notofapple-trees，butofthoseoldhumoristswithgnarledtrunksandtwistedboughs，theolives。Houseshavebeenbuiltupontheramparts，orburrowedoutoftheirponderousfoundation。Eventhegray，martialtowers，crownedwithruinedturrets，havebeenconvertedintorustichabitations，fromthewindowsofwhichhangearsofIndiancorn。Atadoor，thathasbeenbrokenthroughthemassivestoneworkwhereitwasmeanttobestrongest，somecontadiniarewinnowinggrain。