“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.
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 a general to his army.
The least disobedience, the least hesitation, and
the offender was at once dismissed. He was a
man who sought tools, and never made confidants.
Zicci remained for a considerable time motionless
and thoughtful. The hand of the clock before
him pointed to the first hour of morning. The
solemn voice of the timepiece aroused him from his
revery.
