United States or Monaco ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She rose, and, leaning on his arm, followed the others into Langhetti's room. He was fearfully emaciated. His material frame, worn down by pain and confinement, seemed about to dissolve and let free that soaring soul of his, whose fiery impulses had for years chafed against the prison bars of its mortal inclosure.
I have written to Langhetti's sister; she will come, and will bring your sister with her." "I should have told you so before," said Beatrice, "but my own troubles drove every thing else from my mind." "Forgive me," said Brandon, "for intruding now. I came in to learn about Langhetti. You look upon me with horror. I will withdraw." Beatrice bowed her head, and tears streamed from her eyes.
"Oh," said Despard, after a pause, "I'll tell you something better yet. I am her brother and she is my sister Miss Despard." As he spoke he looked down upon her marble face. He did not see Langhetti's countenance. Had he done so he would have wondered. For Langhetti's eyes seemed to seek to pierce the very soul of Despard. His face became transformed.
Langhetti's means were very limited, and as he had risked every thing on this experiment he was rejoiced to find events so very greatly in his favor. Another circumstance which was equally in his favor, if not more so, was the kind consideration of the London papers. They announced his forthcoming work over and over again.
The frightful truth flashed at once across Langhetti's mind that Potts had it in his power here to show all this to the world. He was overwhelmed. He had never conceived the possibility of this. Potts watched him silently, with a sneer on his face. "Don't you think that you had better go and comfort yourself with your dear friend Cigole, your father's intended murderer?" said he at length.
The music which had been given to them had produced an exalted effect upon their own hearts, and now they rendered forth that grand "Chorus of Angels" which those who heard the "Prometheus" have never forgotten. The words resembled, in some measure, the opening song in Goethe's "Faust," but the music was Langhetti's. The effect of this magnificent opening was wonderful.
Athene represented Wisdom or Human Understanding, by which the God of Vengeance is dethroned, and gives place to the eternal rule of the God of Love. To but few of those present could this idea of Langhetti's be intelligible. The most of them merely regarded the fable and its music, without looking for any meaning beneath the surface.
Morning is dawning as I write, and all the feeling of my soul can be expressed in one word, the sublimest of all words, which is intelligible to many of different languages and different races. I will end with this: "Alleluia!" The note which accompanied Langhetti's journal was as follows: "HALIFAX, December 18, 1848. "TERESUOLA VIA DOLCISSIMA, I send you my journal, sorella carissima.
Langhetti's sister seemed to her almost like an old friend since she had been associated with some of her most pleasant memories. An atmosphere of love was around her: the poor sufferer inhaled the pure and life-giving air, and strength came with every breath. At length she was able to sit up, and then Langhetti saw her.
But the lips breathed no more, and in the eyes there no longer beamed the light of life. At the cry of Beatrice the violin fell from Langhetti's hand, and he sank back. His face was turned toward Edith. He saw her and knew it all. He said not a word, but lay with his face turned toward her. They wished to carry her away, but he gently reproved them. "Wait!" he murmured.
Word Of The Day