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Updated: June 3, 2025
"You have reflected deeply, for an Italian," said Glyndon. "Who told you I was an Italian?" "Are you not of Corsica?" "Tush!" said Zicci, impatiently turning away. Then, after a pause, he resumed, in a mild voice: "Glyndon, do you renounce Isabel di Pisani? Will you take three days to consider of what I have said?" "Renounce her, never!" "Then you will marry her?" "Impossible."
The Englishman, Glyndon, loves thee well, better than I can ever love; he may wed thee, he may bear thee to his own free and happy land, the land of thy mother's kin. Forget me, teach thyself to return and to deserve his love; and I tell thee that thou wilt be honored and be happy."
"You are right," said the young Englishman, with energy; "and you cannot reproach me for such a resolution." "No, there is another course left to you. Do you love Isabel di Pisani truly and fervently? If so, marry her, and take a bride to your native land." "Nay," answered Glyndon, embarrassed. "Isabel is not of my rank; her character is strange and self-willed; her education neglected.
But on entering the inner court, Glyndon was not sorry to notice that there was less appearance of neglect and decay: some wild roses gave a smile to the gray walls; and in the centre there was a fountain, in which the waters still trickled coolly, and with a pleasing murmur, from the jaws of a gigantic triton. Here he was met by Mejnour with a smile.
"Hush!" interrupted Zicci, gently, and with a smile of singular but melancholy sweetness: "have you earned the right to ask me these questions? The clays of torture and persecution are over; and a man may live as he pleases, and talk as it suits him, without fear of the stake and the rack. Since I can defy persecution, pardon me if I do not succumb to curiosity." Glyndon blushed, and rose.
As Zicci spoke, his face became livid, and there was something in his voice that froze the warm blood of his listener. "What is this mystery which surrounds you?" exclaimed Glyndon, unable to repress his emotion. "Are you, in truth, different from other men? Have you passed the boundary of lawful knowledge? Are you, as some declare, a sorcerer, only a "
Oh, no! you may be sure she went willingly enough. I only just heard the news: the prince himself proclaimed his triumph this morning, and the accommodating Mascari has been permitted to circulate it. I hope the connection will not last long, or we shall lose our best singer. Addio!" Glyndon stood mute and motionless. He knew not what to think, to believe, or how to act.
"You have reflected deeply, for an Italian," said Glyndon. "Who told you I was an Italian?" "Are you not of Corsica?" "Tush!" said Zicci, impatiently turning away. Then, after a pause, he resumed, in a mild voice: "Glyndon, do you renounce Isabel di Pisani? Will you take three days to consider of what I have said?" "Renounce her, never!" "Then you will marry her?" "Impossible."
At Glyndon half the baggage was piled on an open truck, and the heavy rain we passed through that night completed the ruin the officials began.
"You have not the politeness of your countrymen," said Glyndon, somewhat discomposed. "Suppose I were desirous to cultivate your acquaintance, why should you reject my advances?" "I reject no man's advances," answered Zicci. "I must know them, if they so desire; but me, in return, they can never comprehend. If you ask my acquaintance, it is yours; but I would warn you to shun me."
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