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“It is Dr. Rappaccini!” whispered the professor when the stranger had passed. “Has he ever seen your face before?”
“Not that I know,” answered Giova
“He HAS seen you! he must have seen you![16]” said Baglioni. “For some purpose or other, this man of science is making a study of you. I know that look of his! It is the same as he bends over a bird, a mouse, or a butterfly, which, in some experiment, he has killed by the perfume of a flower; a look as deep as Nature itself, but without Nature’s warmth of love. Signor Giova
“Will you make a fool of me?” cried Giova
“I tell you, my poor Giova
But Guasconti, finding Baglioni intolerable, broke away, and was gone before the professor could again seize his arm. He looked after the young man and shook his head.
“This must not be,” said Baglioni to himself. “He is the son of my old friend, and must not suffer from any harm from which the medical science can preserve him. Besides, why should Rappaccini take the boy out of my own hands, as I may say, and use him for his experiments. This daughter of his! It shall be looked to![17]”
Giova
“Signor! signor!” whispered she. “Listen, signor! There is a private entrance into the garden!”
“What do you say?” exclaimed Giova
“Hush! hush! not so loud!” whispered Lisabetta, putting her hand over his mouth. “Yes; into the doctor’s garden, where you may see all his fine plants. Many young men in Padua would give gold to be admitted among those flowers.”
Giova
“Show me the way,” said he.
His conversation with Baglioni made him think that this might be co
He paused, hesitated, but again went on. His guide led him to a door, through which, as it was opened, he saw leaves, and sunshine glimmering among them. Giova
He looked around the garden to discover if Beatrice or her father were present, and, seeing that he was alone, began a critical observation of the plants.
The look of them dissatisfied him; their gorgeousness seemed fierce, passionate, and even u
She came along the path and met him near the broken fountain. There was surprise in her face, but also a simple and kind expression of pleasure.
“You are a co
“And yourself, lady,” observed Giova
“Do they say so?” asked Beatrice, with a pleasant laugh. “Do people say that I am skilled in my father’s science of plants? No; though I have grown up among these flowers, I know no more of them than their color and perfume. Signor, do not believe these stories about my science.”
“And must I believe all that I have seen with my own eyes?” asked Giova
“Forget what you may have fancied about me. But the words of Beatrice Rappaccini’s lips are true. You may believe them.”
While she spoke there was a fragrance in the atmosphere around her, rich and delightful. Could it be Beatrice’s breath which had the odor of the flowers? Giova
Beatrice asked Giova
They came to the shattered fountain, beside which grew the magnificent shrub, with its purple blossoms. There was a fragrance around it which Giova
“For the first time in my life,” murmured she, addressing the shrub, “I had forgotten you.”
“I remember, signora,” said Giova
He made a step towards the shrub; but Beatrice rushed forward, with a shriek that went through his heart like a dagger. She caught his hand and drew it back.
“Do not touch it!” exclaimed she, in a voice of agony. “It is fatal!”
Then, she fled from him and disappeared beneath the portal. As Giova
No sooner was Guasconti alone in his room than[18] the image of Beatrice came back to his mind. She was human, gentle and womanly; she was capable of the heroism of love. Her frightful abilities were now either forgotten, or, even made her more unique. What had looked ugly was now beautiful; or it hid itself among other half ideas at the back of his mind.[19] Thus did he spend the night. Up rose the sun, and the young man woke up with pain in his hand – in his right hand – the very hand which Beatrice had taken in her own when he was about to pluck one of the purple flowers. On the back of that hand there was now a purple print like that of four small fingers, and the print of a thumb upon his wrist.
Oh, how stubbornly does love hold its faith until the moment comes when it ca
After the first interview, there was a second. A third; a fourth; and a meeting with Beatrice in the garden was no longer an incident in Giova
16
must have seen you – должно быть, он видел вас
17
It shall be looked to! – Этим необходимо заняться!
18
no sooner was Guasconti alone in his room than – как только Гасконти оказался один в своей комнате
19
at the back of his mind – в глубине души
20
nor was it otherwise – так же обстояло дело и