Giovanni’sfaceevincedmanycontendingemotions。Thetoneinwhich
theProfessoralludedtothepureandlovelydaughterofRappaccini
wasatorturetohissoul；andyet，theintimationofaviewofher
character，oppositetohisown，gaveinstantaneousdistinctnesstoa
thousanddimsuspicions，whichnowgrinnedathimlikesomanydemons。
Buthestrovehardtoquellthem，andtorespondtoBaglioniwitha
truelover’sperfectfaith。
“SignorProfessor。”saidhe，“youweremyfather’sfriend-
perchance，too，itisyourpurposetoactafriendlyparttowards
hisson。Iwouldfainfeelnothingtowardsyousaverespectand
deference。ButIprayyoutoobserve，Signor，thatthereisone
subjectonwhichwemustnotspeak。YouknownottheSignoraBeatrice。
Youcannot，therefore，estimatethewrong-theblasphemy，Imayeven
say-thatisofferedtohercharacterbyalightorinjuriousword。”
“Giovanni！mypoorGiovanni！”answeredtheProfessor，withacalm
expressionofpity，“Iknowthiswretchedgirlfarbetterthan
yourself。Youshallhearthetruthinrespecttothepoisoner
Rappaccini，andhispoisonousdaughter。Yes；poisonousassheis
beautiful！Listen；forevenshouldyoudoviolencetomygrayhairs，
itshallnotsilenceme。ThatoldfableoftheIndianwomanhasbecome
atruth，bythedeepanddeadlyscienceofRappaccini，andinthe
personofthelovelyBeatrice！”
Giovannigroanedandhidhisface。
“Herfather。”continuedBaglioni，“wasnotrestrainedbynatural
affectionfromofferinguphischild，inthishorriblemanner，as
thevictimofhisinsanezealforscience。For-letusdohimjustice-
heisastrueamanofscienceaseverdistilledhisownheartinan
alembic。What，then，willbeyourfate？Beyondadoubt，youare
selectedasthematerialofsomenewexperiment。Perhapstheresultis
tobedeath-perhapsafatemoreawfulstill！Rappaccini，withwhathe
callstheinterestofsciencebeforehiseyes，willhesitateat
nothing。”
“Itisadream！”mutteredGiovannitohimself，“surelyitisa
dream！”
“But，resumedtheProfessor，“beofgoodcheer，sonofmyfriend！
Itisnotyettoolatefortherescue。Possibly，wemayevensucceed
inbringingbackthismiserablechildwithinthelimitsofordinary
nature，fromwhichherfather’smadnesshasestrangedher。Beholdthis
littlesilvervase！Itwaswroughtbythehandsoftherenowned
BenvenutoCellini，andiswellworthytobealove-gifttothefairest
dameinItaly。Butitscontentsareinvaluable。Onelittlesipofthis
antidotewouldhaverenderedthemostvirulentpoisonsofthe
Borgiasinnocuous。Doubtnotthatitwillbeasefficaciousagainst
thoseofRappaccini。Bestowthevase，andthepreciousliquidwithin
it，onyourBeatrice，andhopefullyawaittheresult。”
Baglionilaidasmall，exquisitelywroughtsilverphialonthe
table，andwithdrew，leavingwhathehadsaidtoproduceitseffect
upontheyoungman’smind。
“WewillthwartRappacciniyet！”thoughthe，chucklingto
himself，ashedescendedthestairs。“But，letusconfessthetruthof
him，heisawonderfulman！awonderfulmanindeed！Avileempiric，
however，inhispractice，andthereforenottobetoleratedbythose
whorespectthegoodoldrulesofthemedicalprofession！”
ThroughoutGiovanni’swholeacquaintancewithBeatrice，hehad
occasionally，aswehavesaid，beenhauntedbydarksurmisesastoher
character。Yet，sothoroughlyhadshemadeherselffeltbyhimasa
simple，natural，mostaffectionateandguilelesscreature，thatthe
imagenowheldupbyProfessorBaglioni，lookedasstrangeand
incredible，asifitwerenotinaccordancewithhisownoriginal
conception。True，therewereuglyrecollectionsconnectedwithhis
firstglimpsesofthebeautifulgirl；hecouldnotquiteforgetthe
bouquetthatwitheredinhergrasp，andtheinsectthatperished
amidthesunnyair，bynoostensibleagencysavethefragranceof
herbreath。Theseincidents，however，dissolvinginthepurelight
ofhercharacter，hadnolongertheefficacyoffacts，butwere
acknowledgedasmistakenfantasies，bywhatevertestimonyofthe
sensestheymightappeartobesubstantiated。Thereissomethingtruer
andmorereal，thanwhatwecanseewiththeeyes，andtouchwith
thefinger。Onsuchbetterevidence，hadGiovannifoundedhis
confidenceinBeatrice，thoughratherbythenecessaryforceofher
highattributes，thanbyanydeepandgenerousfaithonhispart。But，
now，hisspiritwasincapableofsustainingitselfattheheightto
whichtheearlyenthusiasmofpassionhadexaltedit；hefelldown，
grovellingamongearthlydoubts，anddefiledtherewiththepure
whitenessofBeatrice’simage。Notthathegaveherup；hedidbut
distrust。Heresolvedtoinstitutesomedecisivetestthatshould
satisfyhim，onceforall，whethertherewerethosedreadful
peculiaritiesinherphysicalnature，whichcouldnotbesupposedto
existwithoutsomecorrespondingmonstrosityofsoul。Hiseyes，gazing
downafar，mighthavedeceivedhimastothelizard，theinsect，and
theflowers。Butifhecouldwitness，atthedistanceofafew
paces，thesuddenblightofonefreshandhealthfulflowerin
Beatrice’shand，therewouldberoomfornofurtherquestion。With
thisidea，hehastenedtotheflorist’s，andpurchasedabouquet
thatwasstillgemmedwiththemorningdew-drops。
ItwasnowthecustomaryhourofhisdailyinterviewwithBeatrice。
Beforedescendingintothegarden，Giovannifailednottolookat
hisfigureinthemirror；avanitytobeexpectedinabeautifulyoung
man，yet，asdisplayingitselfatthattroubledandfeverishmoment，
thetokenofacertainshallownessoffeelingandinsincerityof
character。Hedidgaze，however，andsaidtohimself，thathis
featureshadneverbeforepossessedsorichagrace，norhiseyessuch
vivacity，norhischeekssowarmahueofsuperabundantlife。
“Atleast。”thoughthe，“herpoisonhasnotyetinsinuateditself
intomysystem。Iamnoflowertoperishinhergrasp！”
Withthatthought，heturnedhiseyesonthebouquet，whichhe
hadneveroncelaidasidefromhishand。Athrillofindefinable
horrorshotthroughhisframe，onperceivingthatthosedewyflowers
werealreadybeginningtodroop；theyworetheaspectofthingsthat
hadbeenfreshandlovely，yesterday。Giovannigrewwhiteasmarble，
andstoodmotionlessbeforethemirror，staringathisown
reflectionthere，asatthelikenessofsomethingfrightful。He
rememberedBaglioni’sremarkaboutthefragrancethatseemedto
pervadethechamber。Itmusthavebeenthepoisoninhisbreath！
Thenheshuddered-shudderedathimself！Recoveringfromhisstupor，
hebegantowatch，withcuriouseye，aspiderthatwasbusilyatwork，
hangingitswebfromtheantiquecorniceoftheapartment，crossing
andre-crossingtheartfulsystemofinterwovenlines，asvigorousand
activeaspideraseverdangledfromanoldceiling。Giovannibent
towardstheinsect，andemittedadeep，longbreath。Thespider
suddenlyceaseditstoil；thewebvibratedwithatremororiginating
inthebodyofthesmallartizan。AgainGiovannisentfortha
breath，deeper，longer，andimbuedwithavenomousfeelingoutof
hisheart；heknewnotwhetherhewerewickedoronlydesperate。The
spidermadeaconvulsivegripewithhislimbs，andhungdeadacross
thewindow。
“Accursed！Accursed！”mutteredGiovanni，addressinghimself。
“Hastthougrownsopoisonous，thatthisdeadlyinsectperishesbythy
breath？”
Atthatmoment，arich，sweetvoicecamefloatingupfromthe
garden：“Giovanni！Giovanni！Itispastthehour！Whytarriestthou！
Comedown！”
“Yes。”mutteredGiovanniagain。“Sheistheonlybeingwhommy
breathmaynotslay！Wouldthatitmight！”
Herusheddown，andinaninstant，wasstandingbeforethebright
andlovingeyesofBeatrice。Amomentago，hiswrathanddespairhad
beensofiercethathecouldhavedesirednothingsomuchastowither
herbyaglance。But，withheractualpresence，therecame
influenceswhichhadtoorealanexistencetobeatonceshakenoff；
recollectionsofthedelicateandbenignpowerofherfemininenature，
whichhadsooftenenvelopedhiminareligiouscalm；recollectionsof
manyaholyandpassionateoutgushofherheart，whenthepure
fountainhadbeenunsealedfromitsdepths，andmadevisibleinits
transparencytohismentaleye；recollectionswhich，hadGiovanni
knownhowtoestimatethem，wouldhaveassuredhimthatallthis
uglymysterywasbutanearthlyillusion，andthat，whatevermistof
evilmightseemtohavegatheredoverher，therealBeatricewasa
heavenlyangel。Incapableashewasofsuchhighfaith，stillher
presencehadnotutterlylostitsmagic。Giovanni’sragewasquelled
intoanaspectofsulleninsensibility。Beatrice，withaquick
spiritualsense，immediatelyfeltthattherewasagulfofblackness
betweenthem，whichneitherhenorshecouldpass。Theywalkedon
together，sadandsilent，andcamethustothemarblefountain，andto
itspoolofwaterontheground，inthemidstofwhichgrewthe
shrubthatboregem-likeblossoms。Giovanniwasaffrightedatthe
eagerenjoyment-theappetite，asitwere-withwhichhefoundhimself
inhalingthefragranceoftheflowers。
“Beatrice。”askedheabruptly，“whencecamethisshrub！”
“Myfathercreatedit。”answeredshe，withsimplicity。
“Createdit！createdit！”repeatedGiovanni。“Whatmeanyou，
Beatrice？”
“Heisamanfearfullyacquaintedwiththesecretsofnature。”
repliedBeatrice；“and，atthehourwhenIfirstdrewbreath，this
plantsprangfromthesoil，theoffspringofhisscience，ofhis
intellect，whileIwasbuthisearthlychild。Approachitnot！”
continuedshe，observingwithterrorthatGiovanniwasdrawing
nearertotheshrub。“Ithasqualitiesthatyoulittledreamof。But
I，dearestGiovanni-Igrewupandblossomedwiththeplant，andwas
nourishedwithitsbreath。Itwasmysister，andIloveditwitha
humanaffection：for-alas！hastthounotsuspectedit？therewasan
awfuldoom。”HereGiovannifrownedsodarklyuponherthatBeatrice
pausedandtrembled。Butherfaithinhistendernessreassuredher，
andmadeherblushthatshehaddoubtedforaninstant。
“Therewasanawfuldoom。”shecontinued-“theeffectofmy
father’sfatalloveofscience-whichestrangedmefromallsocietyof
mykind。UntilHeavensentthee，dearestGiovanni，Oh！howlonely
wasthypoorBeatrice！”
“Wasitaharddoom？”askedGiovanni，fixinghiseyesuponher。
“OnlyoflatehaveIknownhowharditwas。”answeredshetenderly。
“Oh，yes；butmyheartwastorpid，andthereforequiet。”
Giovanni’sragebrokeforthfromhissullengloomlikea
lightning-flashoutofadarkcloud。
“Accursedone！”criedhe，withvenomousscornandanger。“And
findingthysolitudewearisome，thouhastseveredme，likewise，from
allthewarmthoflife，andenticedmeintothyregionof
unspeakablehorror！”
“Giovanni！”exclaimedBeatrice，turningherlargebrighteyes
uponhisface。Theforceofhiswordshadnotfounditswayintoher
mind；shewasmerelythunder-struck。
“Yes，poisonousthing！”repeatedGiovanni，besidehimselfwith
passion。“Thouhastdoneit！Thouhastblastedme！Thouhastfilledmy
veinswithpoison！Thouhastmademeashateful，asugly，asloathsome
anddeadlyacreatureasthyself-aworld’swonderofhideous
monstrosity！Now-ifourbreathbehappilyasfataltoourselvesasto
allothers-letusjoinourlipsinonekissofunutterablehatred，
andsodie！”
