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The cavaliers crowded round to admire the diamond。
〃Signor Count Cetoxa；〃 said one grave…looking sombre man； who had
crossed himself two or three times during the Neapolitan's
narrative； 〃are you not aware of the strange reports about this
person； and are you not afraid to receive from him a gift which
may carry with it the most fatal consequences？ Do you not know
that he is said to be a sorcerer； to possess the mal…occhio；
to〃
〃Prithee； spare us your antiquated superstitions；〃 interrupted
Cetoxa； contemptuously。 〃They are out of fashion； nothing now
goes down but scepticism and philosophy。 And what； after all； do
these rumours； when sifted； amount to？ They have no origin but
this；a silly old man of eighty…six； quite in his dotage；
solemnly avers that he saw this same Zanoni seventy years ago （he
himself； the narrator； then a mere boy） at Milan； when this very
Zanoni； as you all see； is at least as young as you or I；
Belgioso。〃
〃But that；〃 said the grave gentleman；〃THAT is the mystery。 Old
Avelli declares that Zanoni does not seem a day older than when
they met at Milan。 He says that even then at Milanmark this
where； though under another name； this Zanoni appeared in the
same splendour； he was attended also by the same mystery。 And
that an old man THERE remembered to have seen him sixty years
before； in Sweden。〃
〃Tush；〃 returned Cetoxa； 〃the same thing has been said of the
quack Cagliostro；mere fables。 I will believe them when I see
this diamond turn to a wisp of hay。 For the rest；〃 he added
gravely； 〃I consider this illustrious gentleman my friend； and a
whisper against his honour and repute will in future be
equivalent to an affront to myself。〃
Cetoxa was a redoubted swordsman； and excelled in a peculiarly
awkward manoeuvre； which he himself had added to the variations
of the stoccata。 The grave gentleman； however anxious for the
spiritual weal of the count； had an equal regard for his own
corporeal safety。 He contented himself with a look of
compassion； and； turning through the gateway； ascended the stairs
to the gaming…tables。
〃Ha； ha！〃 said Cetoxa； laughing； 〃our good Loredano is envious of
my diamond。 Gentlemen； you sup with me to…night。 I assure you I
never met a more delightful； sociable； entertaining person； than
my dear friend the Signor Zanoni。〃
CHAPTER 1。V。
Quello Ippogifo； grande e strano augello
Lo porta via。
〃Orlando Furioso；〃 c。 vi。 xviii。
（That hippogriff； great and marvellous bird； bears him away。）
And now； accompanying this mysterious Zanoni； am I compelled to
bid a short farewell to Naples。 Mount behind me；mount on my
hippogriff； reader； settle yourself at your ease。 I bought the
pillion the other day of a poet who loves his comfort； it has
been newly stuffed for your special accommodation。 So； so； we
ascend！ Look as we ride aloft；look！never fear； hippogriffs
never stumble； and every hippogriff in Italy is warranted to
carry elderly gentlemen；look down on the gliding landscapes！
There； near the ruins of the Oscan's old Atella； rises Aversa；
once the stronghold of the Norman； there gleam the columns of
Capua； above the Vulturnian Stream。 Hail to ye； cornfields and
vineyards famous for the old Falernian！ Hail to ye； golden
orange…groves of Mola di Gaeta！ Hail to ye； sweet shrubs and
wild flowers； omnis copia narium； that clothe the mountain…skirts
of the silent Lautulae！ Shall we rest at the Volscian Anxur；
the modern Terracina；where the lofty rock stands like the giant
that guards the last borders of the southern land of love？ Away；
away！ and hold your breath as we flit above the Pontine Marshes。
Dreary and desolate； their miasma is to the gardens we have
passed what the rank commonplace of life is to the heart when it
has left love behind。
Mournful Campagna； thou openest on us in majestic sadness。 Rome；
seven…hilled Rome！ receive us as Memory receives the way…worn；
receive us in silence； amidst ruins！ Where is the traveller we
pursue？ Turn the hippogriff loose to graze： he loves the
acanthus that wreathes round yon broken columns。 Yes； that is
the arch of Titus； the conqueror of Jerusalem；that the
Colosseum！ Through one passed the triumph of the deified
invader； in one fell the butchered gladiators。 Monuments of
murder； how poor the thoughts； how mean the memories ye awaken；
compared with those that speak to the heart of man on the heights
of Phyle； or by thy lone mound； grey Marathon！ We stand amidst
weeds and brambles and long waving herbage。 Where we stand
reigned Nero；here were his tessellated floors； here；
〃Mighty in the heaven； a second heaven；〃
hung the vault of his ivory roofs； here； arch upon arch； pillar
on pillar； glittered to the world the golden palace of its
master；the Golden House of Nero。 How the lizard watches us
with his bright； timorous eye！ We disturb his reign。 Gather
that wild flower： the Golden House is vanished； but the wild
flower may have kin to those which the stranger's hand scattered
over the tyrant's grave； see； over this soil； the grave of Rome；
Nature strews the wild flowers still！
In the midst of this desolation is an old building of the middle
ages。 Here dwells a singular recluse。 In the season of the
malaria the native peasant flies the rank vegetation round； but
he； a stranger and a foreigner； no associates； no companions；
except books and instruments of science。 He is often seen
wandering over the grass…grown hills； or sauntering through the
streets of the new city； not with the absent brow and incurious
air of students； but with observant piercing eyes that seem to
dive into the hearts of the passers…by。 An old man； but not
infirm；erect and stately； as if in his prime。 None know
whether he be rich or poor。 He asks no charity； and he gives
none；he does no evil； and seems to confer no good。 He is a man
who appears to have no world beyond himself； but appearances are
deceitful； and Science； as well as Benevolence； lives in the
Universe。 This abode； for the first time since thus occupied； a
visitor enters。 It is Zanoni。
You observe those two men seated together； conversing earnestly。
Years long and many have flown away since they met last；at
least； bodily； and face to face。 But if they are sages； thought
can meet thought； and spirit spirit； though oceans divide the
forms。 Death itself divides not the wise。 Thou meetest Plato
when thine eyes moisten over the Phaedo。 May Homer live with all
men forever！
They converse； they confess to each other； they conjure up the
past； and repeople it； but note how differently do such
remembrances affect the two。 On Zanoni's face； despite its
habitual calm； the emotions change and go。 HE has acted in the
past he surveys； but not a trace of the humanity that
participates in joy and sorrow can be detected on the passionless
visage of his companion； the past； to him； as is no