Theos-Talk Archives (September 2002 Message tt00115)

Hi all of you,

Vi are all in a certain sense Glyndons right ?
FROM ZANONI:

>>CHAPTER 2.I.

Centauri, e Sfingi, e pallide Gorgoni.

"Ger. Lib.," c. iv. v.

(Centaurs and Sphinxes and pallid Gorgons.)

One moonlit night, in the Gardens at Naples, some four or five
gentleman were seated under a tree, drinking their sherbet, and
listening, in the intervals of conversation, to the music which
enlivened that gay and favourite resort of an indolent
population. One of this little party was a young Englishman, who
had been the life of the whole group, but who, for the last few
moments, had sunk into a gloomy and abstracted reverie. One of
his countrymen observed this sudden gloom, and, tapping him on
the back, said, "What ails you, Glyndon? Are you ill? You have
grown quite pale,--you tremble. Is it a sudden chill? You had
better go home: these Italian nights are often dangerous to our
English constitutions."
"No, I am well now; it was a passing shudder. I cannot account
for it myself."
A man, apparently of about thirty years of age, and of a mien and
countenance strikingly superior to those around him, turned
abruptly, and looked steadfastly at Glyndon.
"I think I understand what you mean," said he; "and perhaps," he
added, with a grave smile, "I could explain it better than
yourself." Here, turning to the others, he added, "You must
often have felt, gentlemen, each and all of you, especially when
sitting alone at night, a strange and unaccountable sensation of
coldness and awe creep over you; your blood curdles, and the
heart stands still; the limbs shiver; the hair bristles; you are
afraid to look up, to turn your eyes to the darker corners of the
room; you have a horrible fancy that something unearthly is at
hand; presently the whole spell, if I may so call it, passes
away, and you are ready to laugh at your own weakness. Have you
not often felt what I have thus imperfectly described?--if so,
you can understand what our young friend has just experienced,
even amidst the delights of this magical scene, and amidst the
balmy whispers of a July night."<<


from
M. Sufilight


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