Suddenly at that thought,--through this space, in which nothing save one
mellow translucent light had been discernible,--a swift succession
of shadowy landscapes seemed to roll: trees, mountains, cities, seas,
glided along like the changes of a phantasmagoria; and at last,
settled and stationary, he saw a cave by the gradual marge of an ocean
shore,--myrtles and orange-trees clothing the gentle banks. On a height,
at a distance, gleamed the white but shattered relics of some ruined
heathen edifice; and the moon, in calm splendour, shining over all,
literally bathed with its light two forms without the cave, at whose
feet the blue waters crept, and he thought that he even heard them
murmur. He recognised both the figures. Zanoni was seated on a fragment
of stone; Viola, half-reclining by his side, was looking into his face,
which was bent down to her, and in her countenance was the expression of
that perfect happiness which belongs to perfect love. "Wouldst thou hear
them speak?" whispered Mejnour; and again, without sound, Glyndon inly
answered, "Yes!" Their voices then came to his ear, but in tones that
seemed to him strange; so subdued were they, and sounding, as it were,
so far off, that they were as voices heard in the visions of some holier
men from a distant sphere.

"And how is it," said Viola, "that thou canst find pleasure in listening
to the ignorant?"

"Because the heart is never ignorant; because the mysteries of the
feelings are as full of wonder as those of the intellect. If at times
thou canst not comprehend the language of my thoughts, at times also I
hear sweet enigmas in that of thy emotions."

"Ah, say not so!" said Viola, winding her arm tenderly round his neck,