The novels and romances of Edward Bulwer Lytton . d break its cage. While murmuring these incoherent rhapsodies, a stepthat she did not hear approached the actress, and a lighthand touched her arm. Viola! — bellissima ! — Viola! She turned, and saw Glyndon. The sight of his fairyoung face calmed her at once. His presence gave herpleasure. Viola, said the Englishman, taking her hand, anddrawing her again to the bench from which she hadrisen, as he seated himself beside her, you shall hearme speak! You must know already that I love thee!It has not been pity or admiration alone that has ledme eve
The novels and romances of Edward Bulwer Lytton . d break its cage. While murmuring these incoherent rhapsodies, a stepthat she did not hear approached the actress, and a lighthand touched her arm. Viola! — bellissima ! — Viola! She turned, and saw Glyndon. The sight of his fairyoung face calmed her at once. His presence gave herpleasure. Viola, said the Englishman, taking her hand, anddrawing her again to the bench from which she hadrisen, as he seated himself beside her, you shall hearme speak! You must know already that I love thee!It has not been pity or admiration alone that has ledme ever and ever to thy dear side; reasons there mayhave been why I have not spoken, save by my eyes,before; but this day — I know not how it is — I feel amore sustained and settled courage to address thee, andlearn the happiest or the worst. I have rivals, I know, — rivals who are more powerful than the poor artist;are they also more favored ? Viola blushed faintly; but her countenance was graveand distressed. Looking down, and marking some. Thou art good and fair, said Viola, Drawn by P. Kauffmann, etched by Deblois. Zanoni, 133. ZANONI. 133 hieroglyphical figures in the dust with the point of herslipper, she said, with some hesitation, and a vainattempt to be gay, Signor, whoever wastes his thoughtson an actress must submit to have rivals. It is ourunhappy destiny not to be sacred even to ourselves. But you do not love this destiny, glittering thoughit seem; your heart is not in the vocation which yourgifts adorn. Ah, no! said the actress, her eyes filling withtears. Once I loved to be the priestess of song andmusic; now I feel only that it is a miserable lot to beslave to a multitude. Fly, then, with me, said the artist, passionately; quit forever the calling that divides that heart I wouldhave all my own. Share my fate now and forever, — mypride, my delight, my ideal! Thou shalt inspire mycanvas and my song; thy beauty shall be made at onceholy and renowned. In the g
Size: 1261px × 1982px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidnovelsromanc, bookyear1896
