Cernis, custodia qualis Vestibulo sedeat? facies quae limina servet?
"Aeneid," lib.vi.574.
(See you what porter sits within the vestibule?--what face watches at the threshold?)And it is profound night.All is at rest within the old castle, --all is breathless under the melancholy stars.Now is the time.
Mejnour with his austere wisdom,--Mejnour the enemy to love;Mejnour, whose eye will read thy heart, and refuse thee the promised secrets because the sunny face of Fillide disturbs the lifeless shadow that he calls repose,--Mejnour comes to-morrow!
Seize the night! Beware of fear! Never, or this hour! So, brave youth,--brave despite all thy errors,--so, with a steady pulse, thy hand unlocks once more the forbidden door.
He placed his lamp on the table beside the book, which still lay there opened; he turned over the leaves, but could not decipher their meaning till he came to the following passage:--"When, then, the pupil is thus initiated and prepared, let him open the casement, light the lamps, and bathe his temples with the elixir.He must beware how he presume yet to quaff the volatile and fiery spirit.To taste till repeated inhalations have accustomed the frame gradually to the ecstatic liquid, is to know not life, but death."He could penetrate no farther into the instructions; the cipher again changed.He now looked steadily and earnestly round the chamber.The moonlight came quietly through the lattice as his hand opened it, and seemed, as it rested on the floor, and filled the walls, like the presence of some ghostly and mournful Power.
He ranged the mystic lamps (nine in number) round the centre of the room, and lighted them one by one.A flame of silvery and azure tints sprung up from each, and lighted the apartment with a calm and yet most dazzling splendour; but presently this light grew more soft and dim, as a thin, grey cloud, like a mist, gradually spread over the room; and an icy thrill shot through the heart of the Englishman, and quickly gathered over him like the coldness of death.Instinctively aware of his danger, he tottered, though with difficulty, for his limbs seemed rigid and stone-like, to the shelf that contained the crystal vials;hastily he inhaled the spirit, and laved his temples with the sparkling liquid.The same sensation of vigour and youth, and joy and airy lightness, that he had felt in the morning, instantaneously replaced the deadly numbness that just before had invaded the citadel of life.He stood, with his arms folded on his bosom erect and dauntless, to watch what should ensue.
The vapour had now assumed almost the thickness and seeming consistency of a snow-cloud; the lamps piercing it like stars.
