CHAPTER XVI.
Ardua vallatur duris sapientia scrupis.[1]
Hadr. Jun., Emblem, xxxvii.
We must go back some hours in the progress of this narrative. It was the first faint and gradual break of the summer dawn; and two men stood in a balcony overhanging a garden fragrant with the scents of the awakening flowers. The stars had not yet left the sky — the birds were yet silent on the boughs: all was still, hushed, and tranquil; but how different the tranquillity of reviving day from the solemn repose of night! In the music of silence there are a thousand variations. These men, who alone seemed awake in Naples, were Zanoni and the mysterious stranger, who had but an hour or two ago startled the Prince di——— in his voluptuous palace.
"No," said the latter; "hadst thou delayed the acceptance of the Arch-Gift until thou hadst attained to the years, and passed through all the desolate bereavements, that chilled and seared myself ere my researches had made it mine, thou wouldst have escaped the curse of which thou complainest now — thou wouldst not have
- ↑ Lofty wisdom is circled round with rugged rocks.
