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How
often
is
it
the
case
that
,
when
impossibilities
have
come
to
pass
and
dreams
have
condensed
their
misty
substance
into
tangible
realities
,
we
find
ourselves
calm
,
and
even
coldly
self
-
possessed
,
amid
circumstances
which
it
would
have
been
a
delirium
of
joy
or
agony
to
anticipate
!
Fate
delights
to
thwart
us
thus
.
Passion
will
choose
his
own
time
to
rush
upon
the
scene
,
and
lingers
sluggishly
behind
when
an
appropriate
adjustment
of
events
would
seem
to
summon
his
appearance
.
So
was
it
now
with
Giovanni
.
Day
after
day
his
pulses
had
throbbed
with
feverish
blood
at
the
improbable
idea
of
an
interview
with
Beatrice
,
and
of
standing
with
her
,
face
to
face
,
in
this
very
garden
,
basking
in
the
Oriental
sunshine
of
her
beauty
,
and
snatching
from
her
full
gaze
the
mystery
which
he
deemed
the
riddle
of
his
own
existence
.
But
now
there
was
a
singular
and
untimely
equanimity
within
his
breast
.
He
threw
a
glance
around
the
garden
to
discover
if
Beatrice
or
her
father
were
present
,
and
,
perceiving
that
he
was
alone
,
began
a
critical
observation
of
the
plants
.
The
aspect
of
one
and
all
of
them
dissatisfied
him
;
their
gorgeousness
seemed
fierce
,
passionate
,
and
even
unnatural
.
There
was
hardly
an
individual
shrub
which
a
wanderer
,
straying
by
himself
through
a
forest
,
would
not
have
been
startled
to
find
growing
wild
,
as
if
an
unearthly
face
had
glared
at
him
out
of
the
thicket
.
Several
also
would
have
shocked
a
delicate
instinct
by
an
appearance
of
artificialness
indicating
that
there
had
been
such
commixture
,
and
,
as
it
were
,
adultery
,
of
various
vegetable
species
,
that
the
production
was
no
longer
of
God
’
s
making
,
but
the
monstrous
offspring
of
man
’
s
depraved
fancy
,
glowing
with
only
an
evil
mockery
of
beauty
.
They
were
probably
the
result
of
experiment
,
which
in
one
or
two
cases
had
succeeded
in
mingling
plants
individually
lovely
into
a
compound
possessing
the
questionable
and
ominous
character
that
distinguished
the
whole
growth
of
the
garden
.
In
fine
,
Giovanni
recognized
but
two
or
three
plants
in
the
collection
,
and
those
of
a
kind
that
he
well
knew
to
be
poisonous
.
While
busy
with
these
contemplations
he
heard
the
rustling
of
a
silken
garment
,
and
,
turning
,
beheld
Beatrice
emerging
from
beneath
the
sculptured
portal
.
Giovanni
had
not
considered
with
himself
what
should
be
his
deportment
;
whether
he
should
apologize
for
his
intrusion
into
the
garden
,
or
assume
that
he
was
there
with
the
privity
at
least
,
if
not
by
the
desire
,
of
Dr
.
Rappaccini
or
his
daughter
;
but
Beatrice
’
s
manner
placed
him
at
his
ease
,
though
leaving
him
still
in
doubt
by
what
agency
he
had
gained
admittance
.
She
came
lightly
along
the
path
and
met
him
near
the
broken
fountain
.
There
was
surprise
in
her
face
,
but
brightened
by
a
simple
and
kind
expression
of
pleasure
.
"
You
are
a
connoisseur
in
flowers
,
signor
,
"
said
Beatrice
,
with
a
smile
,
alluding
to
the
bouquet
which
he
had
flung
her
from
the
window
.
"
It
is
no
marvel
,
therefore
,
if
the
sight
of
my
father
’
s
rare
collection
has
tempted
you
to
take
a
nearer
view
.
If
he
were
here
,
he
could
tell
you
many
strange
and
interesting
facts
as
to
the
nature
and
habits
of
these
shrubs
;
for
he
has
spent
a
lifetime
in
such
studies
,
and
this
garden
is
his
world
.
"
"
And
yourself
,
lady
,
"
observed
Giovanni
,
"
if
fame
says
true
,
—
you
likewise
are
deeply
skilled
in
the
virtues
indicated
by
these
rich
blossoms
and
these
spicy
perfumes
.
Would
you
deign
to
be
my
instructress
,
I
should
prove
an
apter
scholar
than
if
taught
by
Signor
Rappaccini
himself
.
"
"
Are
there
such
idle
rumors
?
"
asked
Beatrice
,
with
the
music
of
a
pleasant
laugh
.
"
Do
people
say
that
I
am
skilled
in
my
father
’
s
science
of
plants
?
What
a
jest
is
there
!
No
;
though
I
have
grown
up
among
these
flowers
,
I
know
no
more
of
them
than
their
hues
and
perfume
;
and
sometimes
methinks
I
would
fain
rid
myself
of
even
that
small
knowledge
.
There
are
many
flowers
here
,
and
those
not
the
least
brilliant
,
that
shock
and
offend
me
when
they
meet
my
eye
.
But
pray
,
signor
,
do
not
believe
these
stories
about
my
science
.
Believe
nothing
of
me
save
what
you
see
with
your
own
eyes
.
"
"
And
must
I
believe
all
that
I
have
seen
with
my
own
eyes
?
"
asked
Giovanni
,
pointedly
,
while
the
recollection
of
former
scenes
made
him
shrink
.
"
No
,
signora
;
you
demand
too
little
of
me
.
Bid
me
believe
nothing
save
what
comes
from
your
own
lips
.
"
It
would
appear
that
Beatrice
understood
him
.
There
came
a
deep
flush
to
her
cheek
;
but
she
looked
full
into
Giovanni
’
s
eyes
,
and
responded
to
his
gaze
of
uneasy
suspicion
with
a
queenlike
haughtiness
.
