shattered fountain, beside which grew the magnificent shrub, with
its treasury of glowing blossoms. A fragrance was diffused from
it which Giovanni recognized as identical with that which he had
attributed to Beatrice's breath, but incomparably more powerful.
As her eyes fell upon it, Giovanni beheld her press her hand to
her bosom as if her heart were throbbing suddenly and painfully.

"For the first time in my life," murmured she, addressing the
shrub, "I had forgotten thee."

"I remember, signora," said Giovanni, "that you once promised to
reward me with one of these living gems for the bouquet which I
had the happy boldness to fling to your feet. Permit me now to
pluck it as a memorial of this interview."

He made a step towards the shrub with extended hand; but Beatrice
darted forward, uttering a shriek that went through his heart
like a dagger. She caught his hand and drew it back with the
whole force of her slender figure. Giovanni felt her touch
thrilling through his fibres.

"Touch it not!" exclaimed she, in a voice of agony. "Not for thy
life! It is fatal!"

Then, hiding her face, she fled from him and vanished beneath the
sculptured portal. As Giovanni followed her with his eyes, he
beheld the emaciated figure and pale intelligence of Dr.
Rappaccini, who had been watching the scene, he knew not how
long, within the shadow of the entrance.