oon, in calm splendour, shining over all,
literally bathed with its light two forms without the cave, at whose
feet the blue waters crept, and he thought that he even heard them
murmur. He recognised both the figures. Zanoni was seated on a fragment
of stone; Viola, half-reclining by his side, was looking into his face,
which was bent down to her, and in her countenance was the expression of
that perfect happiness which belongs to perfect love. "Wouldst thou hear
them speak?" whispered Mejnour; and again, without sound, Glyndon inly
answered, "Yes!" Their voices then came to his ear, but in tones that
seemed to him strange; so subdued were they, and sounding, as it were,
so far off, that they were as voices heard in the visions of some holier
men from a distant sphere.

"And how is it," said Viola, "that thou canst find pleasure in listening
to the ignorant?"

"Because the heart is never ignorant; because the mysteries of the
feelings are as full of wonder as those of the intellect. If at times
thou canst not comprehend the language of my thoughts, at times also I
hear sweet enigmas in that of thy emotions."

"Ah, say not so!" said Viola, winding her arm tenderly round his neck,
and under that heavenly light her face seemed lovelier for its blushes.
"For the enigmas are but love's common language, and love should solve
them. Till I knew thee,--till I lived with thee; till I learned to
watch for thy footstep when absent: yet even in absence to see
thee everywhere!--I dreamed not how strong and all-pervading is the
connection between nature and the human soul!...

"And yet," she continued, "I am now assured of what I at first
believed,--that the feelings which attracted me towards thee at first
were not those of love. I know THAT, by comparing the present with the
past,--it was a sentiment then wholly of the mind or the spirit! I could
not hear thee now say, 'Viola, be happy with another!'"

"And I could not now tell thee so! Ah, Viola, never be weary of assuring
me that thou art happy!"

"Happy while thou art so. Yet at times, Zanoni, thou art so sad!"

"Because human life is so short; because we must part at last; because
yon moon shines on when the nightingale sings to it no more! A little
while, and thine eyes will grow dim, and thy beauty haggard, and these
locks that I toy with now will be grey and loveless."

"And thou, cruel one!" said Viola, touchingly, "I shall never see the
signs of age in thee! But sh