Ascending to his chamber, he seated himself near the window, butwithin the shadow thrown by the depth of the wall, so that he couldlook down into the garden with little risk of being discovered. Allbeneath his eye was a solitude. The strange plants were basking in thesunshine, and now and then nodding gently to one another, as if inacknowledgment of sympathy and kindred. In the midst, by the shatteredfountain, grew the magnificent shrub, with its purple gemsclustering all over it; they glowed in the air, and gleamed back againout of the depths of the pool, which thus seemed to overflow withcolored radiance from the rich reflection that was steeped in it. Atfirst, as we have said, the garden was a solitude. Soon, however- asGiovanni had half hoped, half feared, would be the case- a figureappeared beneath the antique sculptured portal, and came downbetween the rows of plants, inhaling their various perfumes, as if shewere one of those beings of old classic fable, that lived upon sweetodors. On again beholding Beatrice, the young man was even startled toperceive how much her beauty exceeded his recollection of it; sobrilliant, so vivid in its character, that she glowed amid thesunlight, and, as Giovanni whispered to himself, positivelyilluminated the more shadowy intervals of the garden path. Her facebeing now more revealed than on the former occasion, he was struckby its expression of simplicity and sweetness; qualities that hadnot entered into his idea of her character, and which made him askanew, what manner of mortal she might be. Nor did he fail again toobserve, or imagine, an analogy between the beautiful girl and thegorgeous shrub that hung its gem-like flowers over the fountain; aresemblance which Beatrice seemed to have indulged a fantastic humorin heightening, both by the arrangement of her dress and the selectionof its hues.
Approaching the shrub, she threw open her arms, as with apassionate ardor, and drew its branches into an intimate embrace; sointimate, that her features were hidden in its leafy bosom, and herglistening ringlets all intermingled with the flowers.
"Give me thy breath, my sister," exclaimed Beatrice; "for I amfaint with common air! And give me this flower of thine, which Iseparate with gentlest fingers from the stem, and place it closebeside my heart."With these words, the beautiful daughter of Rappaccini pluckedone of the richest blossoms of the shrub, and was about to fasten itin her bosom. But now, unless Giovanni's draughts of wine hadbewildered his senses, a singular incident occurred. A small orangecolored reptile, of the lizard or chameleon species, chanced to becreeping along the path, just at the feet of Beatrice. It appearedto Giovanni- but, at the distance from which he gazed, he couldscarcely have seen anything so minute- it appeared to him, however,that a drop or two of moisture from the broken stem of the flowerdescended upon the lizard's head. For an instant, the reptilecontorted itself violently, and then lay motionless in the sunshine.
Beatrice observed this remarkable phenomenon, and crossed herself,sadly, but without surprise; nor did she therefore hesitate to arrangethe fatal flower in her bosom. There it blushed, and almostglimmered with the dazzling effect of a precious stone, adding toher dress and aspect the one appropriate charm, which nothing elsein the world could have supplied. But Giovanni, out of the shadow ofhis window, bent forward and shrank back, and murmured and trembled.
"Am I awake? Have I my senses?" said he to himself. "What is thisbeing? beautiful, shall I call her? or inexpressibly terrible?"Beatrice now strayed carelessly through the garden, approachingcloser beneath Giovanni's window, so that he was compelled to thrusthis head quite out of its concealment, in order to gratify the intenseand painful curiosity which she excited. At this moment, there camea beautiful insect over the garden wall; it had perhaps wanderedthrough the city and found no flowers nor verdure among thoseantique haunts of men, until the heavy perfumes of Doctor Rappaccini'sshrubs had lured it from afar. Without alighting on the flowers,this winged brightness seemed to be attracted by Beatrice, andlingered in the air and fluttered about her head. Now here it couldnot be but that Giovanni Guasconti's eyes deceived him. Be that asit might, he fancied that while Beatrice was gazing at the insect withchildish delight, it grew faint and fell at her feet! its bright wingsshivered! it was dead! from no cause that he could discern, unlessit were the atmosphere of her breath. Again Beatrice crossed herselfand sighed heavily, as she bent over the dead insect.
An impulsive movement of Giovanni drew her eyes to the window.
There she beheld the beautiful head of the young man- rather a Grecianthan an Italian head, with fair, regular features, and a glistening ofgold among his ringlets- gazing down upon her like a being thathovered in mid-air. Scarcely knowing what he did, Giovanni threwdown the bouquet which he had hitherto held in his hand.
