loodshot eyes; and Fillide clasped him with passionate
arms to her tender breast. And at his up-rising and down-sitting, at
board and in bed, though he saw it not, the Nameless One guided him with
the demon eyes to the sea whose waves were gore.

BOOK VI. -- SUPERSTITION DESERTING FAITH.

Why do I yield to that suggestion, Whose horrid image doth unfix
my hair.--Shakespeare

CHAPTER 6.I.

Therefore the Genii were painted with a platter full of garlands
and flowers in one hand, and a whip in the other.--Alexander
Ross, "Mystag. Poet."

According to the order of the events related in this narrative, the
departure of Zanoni and Viola from the Greek isle, in which two happy
years appear to have been passed, must have been somewhat later in date
than the arrival of Glyndon at Marseilles. It must have been in the
course of the year 1791 when Viola fled from Naples with her mysterious
lover, and when Glyndon sought Mejnour in the fatal castle. It is now
towards the close of 1793, when our story again returns to Zanoni. The
stars of winter shone down on the lagunes of Venice. The hum of the
Rialto was hushed,--the last loiterers had deserted the Place of St.
Mark's, and only at distant intervals might be heard the oars of the
rapid gondolas, bearing reveller or lover to his home. But lights still
flitted to and fro across the windows of one of the Palladian palaces,
whose shadow slept in the great canal; and within the palace watched the
twin Eumenides that never sleep for Man,--Fear and Pain.

"I will make thee the richest man in all Venice, if thou savest her."

"Signor," said the leech; "your gold cannot control death, and the will
of Heaven, signor, unless within the next hour there is some blessed
change, prepare your courage."

Ho--ho, Zanoni! man of mystery and might, who hast walked amidst the
passions of the world, with no changes on thy brow, art thou tossed at
last upon the billows of tempestuous fear? Does thy spirit reel to and
fro?--knowest thou at last the strength and the majesty of Death?

He fled, trembling, from the pale-faced man of art,--fled through
stately hall and long-drawn corridor, and gained a remote chamber in the
palace, which other step than his was not permitted to profane. Out
with thy herbs and vessels. Break from the enchanted elements, O
silvery-azure flame! Why comes he not,--the Son of the Starbeam! Why
is Adon-Ai deaf to thy solemn call? It co